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I 








THE RANGERS 


OR, 


THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 


A TALE 


ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE 


REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY OF VERMONT, 


AND THE 


NORTHERN CAMPAIGN OF 17 77 . 


BY THE AUTHOR OP “THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS.» 


IN TWO VOLUMES 
VOL. I. 



FOURTH EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

SANBORN, CARTER & BAZIN. 
PORTLAND: 

SANBORN & CARTER. 

1 8 5 6. 







Entered according to Act of Congress, 'ai the year 1851, by 
Benj. B. Mussey & Co., 

In the Clerk’s office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts 


euft 

m. HUTCHFSnN 

23JI’07 

« 

••• : 

« • 

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STEKEOTTPED AT THE 
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 


/ 


7 


On commencing his former work, illustrative of the revolutionary his¬ 
tory of Vermont, — The Green Mountain Boys, — it was the design of 
the author to have embraced the battle of Bennington, and other^events 
of historic interest which occurred in the older arid more southerly parts 
of the state; but finding, as he proceeded, that the unity and interest 
of his effort would be endangered by embracing so much ground, a 
part of the original design was relinquished, or rather its execution was 
deferred for a new and separate work, wherein better justice could be 
done to the rich and unappropriated materials of which his researches 
had put him in possession. That work, after an interval of ten years, and 
the writing and publishing of several intermediate ones, is now presented 
to the public, and with the single remark, that if it is made to possess less 
interest, as a mere tale, than its predecessor, the excuse must be found 
in the author’s greater anxiety to give a true historic version of the in¬ 
teresting and important events he has undertaken to illustrate. 

Montpelier, Januaryy 1851. 


JARED 


\ 


NSCRIBED 

TO 

SPARKS, L.L.D^ 


PasaiDKNT OF HAKYAJELD UNIYSB8ITT. 





THE EANGERS; 

OR, 

THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER 1. 


“Sing on! sing on! my mountain home, 
The paths where erst I used to roam, 
The tliundering torrent lost in foam, 

The snow-hill side all bathed in light,— 
All, all are bursting on my sight! ” 


Towards nighty on the twelfth of March, 1775, a richly- 
equipped double sleigh, filled with a goodly company of well- 
dressed persons of the different sexes, was seen descending from 
the eastern side of the Green Mountains, along what may now 
be considered the principal thoroughfare leading from the upper 
navigable portions of the Hudson to those of the Connecticut 
River. The progress of the travellers was not only slow, but 
extremely toilsome, as was plainly evinced by the appearance of 
the reeking and jaded horses, as they labored and floundered 
along the sloppy and slumping snow paths of the winter road, 
which was obviously now fast resolving itself into .the element of 
which it was composed. Up to the previous evening, the dreary 
reign of winter had continued wholly uninterrupted by the ad¬ 
vent of his more gentle successor in the changing rounds of tho 
seasons ; and the snowy waste which enveloped the earth would, 
that morning, have apparently withstood the rains and suns of 
1 





2 


THE RANGERS, 


months before yielding entirely to their influences. But dining 
the night there had occurred one of those great and sudden 
transitions from cold to heat, which can only be experienced in 
northern climes, and which can be accounted for only on the sup¬ 
position, that the earth, at stated intervals, rapidly gives out large 
quantities of its internal heats, or that the air becomes suddenly 
rarefied by some essential change or modification in the state of 
the electric fluid. The morning had been c.oudless ; and the 
rising sun, with rays no longer dimly struggling through the 
dense, obstructing medium of the dark months gone by, but, with 
the restored beams of his natural brightness, fell upon the smok¬ 
ing earth with the genial warmth of summer. A new atmosphere, 
indeed, seemed to have been suddenly created, so warm and 
bland was the whole air; while, occasionally, a breeze came over 
the face of the traveller, which seemed like the breath of a 
heated oven. As the day advanced, the sky gradually became 
overcast — a strong south wind sprung up, before whose warm 
puffs the drifted snow-banks seemed literally to be cut down, 
like grass before the scythe of the mower ; and, at length, from 
the thickening mass of cloud above, the rain began to descend 
in torrents to the mutely recipient earth. All this, for a while, 
however, produced no very visible effects on the general face of 
nature ; for the melting snow was many hours in becoming 
saturated with its own and water from above. Nor had our 
travellers, for the greater part of the day, been much incom¬ 
moded by the rain, or the thaw, that was in silent, but rapid 
progress around and beneath them ; as their vehicle was a cov¬ 
ered one, and as the hard-trodden paths of the road were the last 
to be affected. But, during the last hour, a great change in the 
face of the landscape had become apparent; and the evidence 
of what had been going on unseen, through the day, was now 
growing every moment more and more palpable. The snow 
along the bottom of every valley was marked by a long, dark 
streak, indicating the presence of the fast-collecting waters be¬ 
neath. The stifled sounds of rushing streams were heard issuing 
from the hidden beds of every natural rill; while the larger 
brooks were beginning to burst through their wintry coverings, 
and throw up and push on before them the rending ice and 
snow that obstructed their courses to the rivers below, to which 
they were hurrying with increasing speed, and with seemingly 
growing impatience at every obstacle they met in their way. 
The road had also become so soft, that the horses sunk nearly to the 
flank at almost every step, and the plunging sleigh drove heavily 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


3 


along the plashy path. The whole mass of the now saturated 
and dissolving snow, indeed, though lying, that morning, more 
than three feet deep on a level, seemed to quiver and move, 
as if on the point of/flowing a\vay in a body to the nearest 
channels. 

The company we have introduced consisted of four gentlemen 
and two ladies, all belonging, very evidently, to the most wealthy, 
and, up to that time, the most honored and influential class of 
society. But though all seemed to be of the same caste, yet 
their natural characters, as any physiognomist, at a glance, 
would have discovered, were, for so small a party, unusually 
diversified. Of the two men occupying the front seat, both 
under the age of thirty, the one sitting on the right and acting as 
driver was t^fll, showily dressed, and of a haughty, aristocratic 
air; while his sharp features, which set out in the shape of a 
half-moon, the convex outline being preserved by a retreating 
forehead, an aquiline nose, and a chin sloping inward, combined 
to give him a cold, repulsive countenance, fraught with expres¬ 
sions denoting selfishness and insincerity. The other occupant 
of the same seat was, on the contrary, a young man of an unas¬ 
suming de,meanor, shapely features, and a mild, pleasing coun¬ 
tenance. The remaining two gentlemen of the party were much 
older, but scarcely less dissimilar in their appearance than the 
two just described. One of them was a gaunt, harsh-featured 
man, of the middle age, with an air of corresponding arrogance 
. and assumption. The other, who was still more elderly, was a 
thick-set and rather portly personage, of that quiet, reserved, and 
somewhat haughty demeanor, which usually belongs to men of 
much self-esteem, and of an unyielding, opinionated disposition. 
The ladies were both young, and in the full bloom of maidenly 
beauty. But their nhtive characters, like those of their male 
companions, seemed to be very strongly contrasted. The one 
seated on the left was fair, extremely fair, indeed; and her 
golden locks, clusteriiig in rich profusion around her snowy neck 
and temples, gave peculiar effect to the picture-like beauty of her 
face. But her beauty consisted of pretty features, and her coun¬ 
tenance spoke rather of the affections than of the mind, being of 
that tender, pleading cast, which is better calculated to call forth 
sympathy than command respect, and which showed her to be 
one of those confiding, dependent persons, whose destinies are in 
the hands of those whom they consider their friends, rather than 
in their own keeping. The other maiden, wdth an equally fine 
form and no less beautiful features, was still of an entirely differ¬ 
ent appearance. She, indeed, was, to the one first described. 


4 


THE RANGERS, 


what the rose, with its’hardy stem, is to the lily leaning on the 
surrounding herbage for its support; and though less delicaifely 
fair in mere complexion, she was yet more commandingly 
beautiful ; for there was an expression in the bright, discrimi¬ 
nating glances of her deep hazel eyes, and in the commingling 
smile that played over the whole of her serene and benignant 
countenance, that told of intellects that could act independently, 
as well as of a heart that glowed with the kindly affections. 

“ Father,” said the last described female, addressing the eldest 
gentleman, for the purpose, apparently, of giving a new turn to 
the conversation, which had now, for some time, been lagging, — 
“ father, I think you promised us, on starting from Bennington 
this morning, not only a fair day, but a safe arrival at Westmin¬ 
ster Court-House, by sunset, did you not 

“ Why, yes, perhaps I did,” replied the person addressed ; “ for 
I know 1 calculated that we should get through by daylight.” 

“ Well, my weatherwise father, to say nothing about this 
storm, instead of the promised sunshine, does the progress, made 
and now making, augur very brightly for the other part of the 
result ? ” 

“ I fear me not, Sabrey,” answered the old gentleman, “ though, 
with the road as good as when we started, we should have 
easily accomplished it. But who would have dreamed of a thaw 
so sudden and powerful as this ? Why, the very road before us 
looks like a running river! Indeed, I think we shall do well to 
reach Westminster at all to-night. What say you, Mr. Peters,— 
will the horses hold out to do it ? ” he added, addressing the 
young man of the repulsive look, who had charge of the team, 
as before mentioned. 

“ They must do it, at all events, Squire Haviland,” replied 
Peters. “ Sheriff Patterson, here,” he continued, glancing at the 
hard-featured man before described, “ has particular reasons for 
being on the ground to-night. I must also be there, and like¬ 
wise friend Jones, if we can persuade him to forego his intended 
stop at Brattleborough; for, being of a military turn, we will 
give him the command of the forces, if he will go on immediately 
with us.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Peters,” replied Jones, smiling. “ I do not 
covet the honor of a command, though I should be ready to go 
on and assist, if I really believed that military forces would be 
needed.” 

“ Military forces needed for what.? ” asked Haviland, in some 
surprise. 

Why, have you not heard, Squire Haviland,” said the sheriff. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


5 


‘ that threats have been thrown out, that our coming court would 
not be sutfered to sit ? ” 

“ Yes, something of the kind, perhaps,” replied Haviland, con- 
temjituously ; “ but I looked upon them only as the silly vaporings 
of a few disaffected creatures, who, having heard of the rebellious 
movements in the Bay State, have thrown out these idle threats 
with the hope of intimidating our authorities, and so prevent the 
holding of a court, which they fear might bring too many of them 
to justice.” 

“■ So I viewed the case for a while,” rejoined Patterson ; “ but 
a few days ago, I received secret information, on which I could 
rely, that these disorganising rascals were actually combining, in 
considerable numbers, with the intention of attempting to drive 
us from the Court-House.” 

“ Impossible ! impossible ! Patterson,” said the squire ; “ they 
will never be so audacious as to attempt to assail the king’s 
court.” 

“ They are making a movement for that purpose, nevertheless,” 
returned the former; “ for, in addition to the information I have 
named, I received a letter from Judge Chandler, just as I was 
leaving my house in Brattleborough, yesterday morning, in which 
the judge stated, that about forty men, from Rockingham, came 
to him ini a body, at his house in Chester, and warned him 
against holding the court; and had the boldness to tell him, that 
blood would be shed, if it was attempted, especially if the sheriff 
appeared with an armed posse."*' 

“ Indeed ! why, I am astonished at their insolence ! ” exclaimed 
the squire. “ But what did the judge tell them 

“ Why the judge, you know, has an oily way of getting along 
with ugly customers,” replied-the sheriff, with a significant wink ; 
“ so he thanked them all kindly for calling on him, and gravely 
told them he agreed with them, that no court should be holden 
at this time. But, as there was one case of murder to be tried, 
he supposed the court must come together to dispose of that; 
after which they would immediately adjourn. And promising 
them that he would give the sheriff directions not to appear with 
any armed assistants, he dismissed them, and sat down and wrote 
me an account of the affair, winding off with giving me the direc¬ 
tions he ha’d promised, but adding in a postscript, that I was such 
a contrary fellow, that he doubted whether I should obey his 
directions; and he should not be surprised to see me there with a 
hundred men, each with a gun or pistol under his great-coat! 
Ha! ha ! The judge is a sly one.” 

1 * 


6 


THE RANGERS, 


“ One word about that case of murder, to which you have al¬ 
luded, Mr. Patterson,” interposed Jones, after the jeering laugh, 
with which the sheriff’s account was received by Haviland and 
Peters, had subsided. “ I have heard several mysterious hints 
thrown out by our opponents about it, which seemed to imply 
that the prosecution of the prisoner was got up for private pur¬ 
poses ; and I think I have heard the name of Secretary Brush 
coupled with the affair. Now, who is the alleged murderer ? and 
where and when was the crime committed ? ” 

“ The fellow passes by the name of Herriot, though it is sus¬ 
pected that this is not his true name,” responded the sheriff. 
“ The crime was committed at Albany, several years ago, when 
he killed, or mortally wounded, an intimate friend of Mr. Brush.” 

“ Under what circumstances.?” 

“ Why, from what I have gathered, I should think the story 
might be something like this: that, some time previous to the 
murder, this Herriot had come to Albany, got into company 
above his true place, dashed away a while in high life, gam¬ 
bled deeply, and, losing all his own money, and running up a 
large debt to this, and other friends of Brush, gave them his obli¬ 
gations and absconded. But coming there again, for some pur¬ 
pose, a year or two after, with a large sum of money, it was 
thought, which had been left or given him by a rich Spaniard, 
whose life he had saved, or something of the kind, those whom 
he owed beset him to pay them, or play again. But he refused 
to play, pretending to have become pious, and also held back 
about paying up his old debts. Their debts, however, they deter¬ 
mined to have, and went to him for that purpose; when an affray 
arose, and one of them was killed.by Herriot, who escaped, and 
fled, it seems, to this section of the country, where he kept him¬ 
self secluded in some hut in the mountains, occasionally appear¬ 
ing abroad to preach religion and rebellion to the people, by 
which means he was discovered, arrested, and imprisoned in 
Westminster jail, where he awaits his trial at the coming term 
of the court. And I presume he will be convicted and hung, 
unless he makes friends with Brush to intercede for a pardon, 
which he probably might do, if the fellow would disgorge enough 
of his hidden treasures to pay his debts, and cease disaffecting 
the people, which is treason and a hanging matter of itself, for 
which he, and fifty others in this quarter, ought, in justice, to be 
dealt with without benefit of the clergy. — What say you. Squire 
Haviland” 

“ I agree witl you fully,” replied the squire. “ But to re- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


7 


turn to Judge Chandler’s communication: what steps have you 
taken, if any, in order to sustain the court in the threatened 
emergency ? ” 

“ Why, just the steps that Chandler knew I should take — sent 
off one messenger to Brush, there on the ground at Westminster; 
another to Rogers, of Kent; and yet another to a trusty friend 
in Guilford, requesting each to be on, with a small band of reso¬ 
lute fellows; while I whipped over to Newfane myself, fixed 
matters there, and came round to Bennington to enlist David Red¬ 
ding, and a friend or two more ; as I did, after I arrived, last 
night, though I was compelled to leave them my sleigh and horses 
to bring them over, which accounts for my begging a passage with 
you. So, you see, that if this beggarly rabble offer to make any 
disturbance, I shall be prepared to teach them the cost of attempt¬ 
ing to put down the king’s court.” 

“ Things are getting to a strange pass among these deluded 
people, that is certain. I cannot, however, yet believe them so 
infatuated as to take this step. But if they should, decided meas¬ 
ures should be taken — such, indeed, as shall silence this alarm¬ 
ing spirit at once and forever.” 

“ I hope,” observed Miss Haviland, who had been a silent but 
attentive listener to the dialogue, “ I hope no violence is really 
intended, either on the part of the authorities or their opponents. 
But what do these people complain of.? There must be some 
cause, by which they, at least, think themselves justified in the 
movement, surely. Do they consider themselves aggrieved by 
any past decisions of the court } ” 

“ O, there are grumblers enough, doubtless, in that respect,” 
answered the sheriff. “ And among other things, they complain 
that their property is taken and sold to pay their honest debts, 
when money is so scarce, they say, that they cannot pay their 
creditors in currency — just as if the court could make money 
for the idle knaves! But that is mere pretence. They have 
other motives, and those, too, of a more dangerous character to 
the public peace.” 

“ And what may those motives be, if it be proper for me to 
inquire, sir } ” resumed the fair questioner. 

“ Why, in the first place,” replied the sheriff, “ they have an 
old and inveterate grudge against New York, whose jurisdiction 
they are much predisposed to resist. But to this they might have 
continued to demur and submit, as they have done this side of 
the mountain, had New York adopted the resolves of the Conti¬ 
nental Congress of last December, and come into the American 


8 


THE RANGERS, 


Association^ as it is called, which has no less for its object, in 
reality, than the entire overthrow of all royal authority in this 
country. But as our colony has nobly refused to do this, they 
are now intent on committing a double treason — that of making 
war on New York and the king too.” 

“ Well, I should have little suspected,” remarked Haviland, 
“ that the people of this section, who have shown themselves 
commendably conservative, for the most part, had any intention 
of yielding to the mob-laws of Ethan Allen, Warner, and others, 
who place the laws of New York at defiance on the other side 
of the mountains; and much less that they would heed the re¬ 
solves of that self-constituted body of knaves, ignoramuses, and 
rebels, calling themselves the Continental Congress.” 

“ Are you not too severe on that body of men, father ? ” said 
Miss Haviland, lifting her expressive eye reprovingly to th^ face 
of the speaker. “ I have recently read over a list of the mem¬ 
bers of the Congress ; when I noticed among them the names of 
men, who, but a short time since, stood very high, both for learn¬ 
ing and worth, as I have often heard you say yourself. Now, 
what has changed the characters of these men so suddenly 

“ Why is it, Sabrey,” said the old gentleman, with an air of 
petulance, and without deigning any direct answer to the trouble¬ 
some question, — “ why is it that you cannot take the opinion of 
your friends, who know so much more than you do about these 
matters, instead of raising, as I have noticed you have lately 
seemed inclined to do, questions which seem to imply doubts of 
the correctness of the measures of our gracious sovereign and 
his wise ministers } ” 

“ Why, father,” replied the other, with an ingenuous, but some¬ 
what abashed look, “ if I have raised such questions, in relation 
to the quarrel between the colonies and the mother country, I 
have gone on the ground that the party which has the most 
right on its side would, of course, have the best reasons for its 
measures; and as I have not always been able to perceive good 
reasons for all the king’s measures, 1 had supposed you would be 
proud to give them.” 

The old gentleman, though evidently disturbed and angiy at 
this reply, did not seem inclined to push the debate any further 
with his daughter. The other gentlemen, also, looked rather 
glum ; and for many moments not a word was spoken ; when 
he other young lady, who had not yet spoken, after glancing 
round on the gentlemen in seeming expectation that those better 
reasons would be given, at length ventured to remark,— 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


9 


“Well, for my part, it is enough for me that my friends all 
belong to the loyal party ; and whatever might be said, I know 1 
should always feel that they were in the right, and their opposers 
in the wrong.” 

“ And in that, Jane, I think you are wise,” responded Jones, 
with an approving smile. “ The complaints of these disaffected 
people are based on mistaken notions. Tliey are too ill informed, 
I fear, to appreciate the justice and necessity of the measures of 
our ministers, or to understand very clearly what they are quar¬ 
relling about.” 

‘^h, that is it,” warmly responded Haviland. “ That is what 
I have always said of them. They don’t understand their own 
rights, or what is for their own good, and should be treated ac¬ 
cordingly. And I think some of our leading men miss it in trying 
to reason with them. Reason with them ! Ridiculous ! As if the 
common people could understand an argument ! ” 

“ You are perfectly right, squire,” responded Peters, with eager 
promptness. “ My own experience among the lower classes fully 
confirms your opinion. My business, for several years past, has 
brought me often in contact with them, in a certain quarter ; and 
1 have found them not only ignorant of what properly belongs to 
their own rights and privileges, but jealous and obstinate to a 
degree that is excessively annoying.” 

“ Friend Peters probably alludes to his experience in the great 
republic, of Guilford,” said Jones, archly. . 

“There and elsewhere,” rejoined the former ; “ though I hav( 
seen quite enough of republicanism there^ for my purpose. One 
year, the party outvoting their opponents, and coming into power, 
upsets every thing done by their predecessors. The next year 
the upsetters themselves get upset; and all the measures they 
had established are reversed for others no better; and so they go 
on from year to year, forever quarrelling and forever changing.” 

“ And yet, Peters,” resumed Jones, banteringly, “ 1 doubt 
whether you have been much the loser by their quarrels.” 

“How so, Mr. Jones.?” asked Haviland, who noticed that 
Peters had answered only by a significant smile. 

“ Why, you know, Squire Haviland,” replied Jones, “ that I 
have been on to attend several of the last sessions of your court, 
as the agent of Secretary Fanning,* to see to his landed interests in 

* Edward P’anning, secretary to Governor Try on, New York, before 
the revolution, obtained, by an act of favoritism from his master, a'grant 
of the township of Stratton, which, in 1780, Fanning having been appoint¬ 
ed a colonel of a regiment of tories, was confiscated, and re-granted, by 



10 


THE BANGERS, 


this quarter. Well, friend Peters, here, who has gone consider¬ 
ably into land speculations east of the mountains, you know, had 
brought, it seems, several suits for the possession of lands, mostly 
in this same Guilford ; and among the rest, one for a right of land 
in possession of a sturdy young log-roller, whom they called Harry 
Woodburn, who appeared in court in his striped woollen frock, 
and insisted on defending his own case, as he proceeded to do 
with a great deal of confidence. But when he came to produce 
his deed for the land he contended was his own, it was found, to 
his utter astonishment, to bear a later date than the one pro¬ 
duced by Peters. This seemed to settle the case against«liim. 
But he appeared to have no notion of giving up so ; and, by favor 
of court, the further hearing of the case was deferred a day or 
two, to enable him to procure the town records, which, he con¬ 
tended, would show.the priority of his deed. So he posted back 
to Guilford for the purpose ; but, on arriving there, found, to 
his dismay, that the records were nowhere to be found. One of 
the belligerent parties of that town, it seems, had broken into the 
clerk’s office, stolen the records, and buried them somewhere in 
the ground. Tke fellow, therefore, had to return, and submit to a 
judgment against him. Still, however, he clung to his case, and 
obtained a review of it, in expectation that the records would be 
found before trie next court. But the poor fellow seemed doomed 
to disappointment. At the next court, no records were forth¬ 
coming ; and though he defended his case with great zeal, he 
was thrown in his suit again ; when he concluded, I suppose, to 
yield to his fate without further ado.” 

“ Not by any means,” said Peters, in a tone of raillery. “ He 
has petitioned.for a new trial; and the question is to come on at 
this court.” 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Jones, laughing. “ Well, I must con¬ 
fess I have never seen so much dogged determination exhibited 
in so hopeless a case. And I really could not help admiring the 
fellow’s spirit and uncultured force of mind, as much misapplied 
as, of course, I suppose it to have been. Your lawyer, Stevens, 
really appeared, once or twice, to be quite annoyed at his home 
thrusts; while lawyer Knights, or Rough-hewn Sam, as they call 
him, who, either from a sly wish to see his friend Stevens both¬ 
ered, or from a real wish to help Harry, volunteered to whisper a 

the legislature of Vermont,^to William Williams and others. Kent, af¬ 
terwards Londonderry, which had been granted to James Rogers, who 
has been introduced, and who became a tory officer, was also, in like 
manner, confiscated and re-granted. 



OR THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 


11 


few sugg^3stions in his ear occasionally, sat by, and laughed out 
of his eyes, till they ran over with tears, to see a court lawyer so 
hard pushed by a country bumpkin.” 

“ Pooh ! you make too much of the fellow,” said Peters, with 
assumed contempt. “ Why, he is a mere obstinate boor, whose 
self-will and vanity led him to set up and persevere in a defence 
in which he knows there is neither law nor justice.” 

“ And yet, Mr. Peters,” observed Miss Haviland, inquiringly, 
“ the young man must have known that he was making great ex¬ 
pense for himself, in obtaining delays and new trials, in the hope 
that the lost records would be found. If he was not very confi¬ 
dent those records would have established his right, why should 
he have done this } ” 

“ O, that was a mere pretence about the records altering the 
case, doubtless,” replied Peters, with the air of one wishing to 
hear no more on the subject. 

“ It may have been so,” rejoined the former, doubtfully ; “ but 
I should have hardly inferred it from Mr. Jones’s description of 
the man and his conduct.” 

“ Nor I,” interposed the other lady, playfully, but with consid¬ 
erable spirit. “ Mr. Jones has really excited my curiosity by his 
account of this young plough-jogger. I should like to get a sight 
of him—shouldn’t you, Sabrey } ” 

But the latter, though evidently musing on the subject, and 
mentally discussing some unpleasant doubts and inferences which 
it seemed to present to her active mind, yet evaded the question, 
and turned the conversation, by directing the attention of her 
companion and the rest of the company to a distant object in the 
wild landscape, which here opened to their view. This was the 
tall, rugged mountain, which, rising from the eastern shore of the 
Connecticut, was here, through an opening in the trees, seen 
looming and lifting its snowy crest to the clouds, and greeting the 
gladdened eyes of the way-worn travellers with the silent but 
welcome announcement that they were now within a few miles 
of the great river, and in the still more immediate vicinity of their 
intended halting-place — the thriving little village which was then 
just starting into life, under the auspices of the man from whom 
its name was derived — the enterprising Colonel Brattle, of Mas¬ 
sachusetts. 

Having now the advantage of a road, which, as it received the 
many concentrating paths of a thicker settlement, here began to 
be comparatively firm, the travellers passed rapidly over the de- 
Bcending grounds, and, in a short time, entered the village^ As 


12 


THE BANGERS, 


they were dashing along towards the village inn, at a full trot, 
R man, with a vehicle drawn by one horse, approaching in an 
intersecting road from the south, struck into the same street a 
short distance before them. His whole equipment was very 
obviously of the most simple character, — a rough board box, 
resting on four upright wooden pins inserted into a couple of 
saplings, which were bent up in front for runners — the whole 
making what, in New England phrase, is termed a jiimpir, con¬ 
stituted his sleigh. And this vehicle was drawn by a long switch¬ 
tailed young pony, whose unsteady gait, as he briskly ambled 
along the street, pricking up his ears and veering about at every 
new object by the way-side, showed him to be but imperfeclly 
broken. The owner of this rude contrivance for locomotion was 
evidently some young farmer from the neighboring country. 
But although his dress and mode of travelling seemed thus to 
characterize him, yet there was that in his personal appearance, 
as plain as was his homespun garb, which was calculated to com¬ 
mand at once both attention and respect. And as he now rose 
and stood firmly planted in his sleigh, occasionally looking back 
to watch the motions of the team behind him, with his long, toga¬ 
like woollen frock drawn snugly over his finely-sloping shoulders 
and well-expanded bust, and closely girt about at the waist by a 
neatly-knotted Indian belt, while the flowing folds below streamed 
gracefully aside in the wind, he displayed one of those compact, 
shapely figures, which the old Grecian sculptors so delighted to 
delineate. And in addition to these advantages of figure, he 
possessed an extrernely fine set of features, which were shown 
off effectively by the profusion of short, jetty locks, that curled 
naturally around his white temples and his bold, high forehead. 

“ Miss McKea — Jane,” said Jones, turning round to the amia¬ 
ble girl, and tapping her on the shoulder, with the confiding 
smile and tender playfulness of the accepted lover, as he was, — 
“ Jane, you said, I think, that you should like to get a sight of 
that spunky opponent of Mr. Peters, whom we were talking of a 
little while since — did you not.? ” 

“O, yes, yes, to be sure I did,” replied the other briskly ; “ but 
why that question, just at this time .? ” 

“ Because, if I do not greatly mistake, that man who is push¬ 
ing on before us, in yon crazy-looking establishment, is the self¬ 
same young fellow. Is it not so, Peters ? ” 

“ I have not noticed him particularly, nor do I care whether it 
is he or not,” answered Peters, with an affected indifference, with 
which his uneasy and frowning glances, as he kept his eye keenly 
fixed on the person in question, but illy comported. 


OR THE tort’s DAUGHTER. 


13 


“ Well, that is the fellow — that is Harry Woodhurn, you may 
rely on it, ladies,” rejoined Jones, gayly, as he faced about in his 
Beat. 

Both young ladies now threw intent and curious glances for¬ 
ward on the man thus pointed out to them, till they caught, as 
they did the next moment, a full and fair view of his personal 
appearance ; when they turned and looked at each other with 
expressions of surprise, which plainly indicated that the object of 
their thoughts was quite a different person from what they had 
been led to expect. 

“ His dress, to be sure, is rather coarse,” observed Miss Hav- 
iland to her companion, in a low tone ; “ but he is no boor ; nor 

can every one boast of-” Here she threw a furtive glance at 

Peters, when she appeared to read something in his countenance 
which caused her to suspend the involuntary comparison which 
was evidently, passing in her mind, and to keep her eye fixed on 
his motions. 

The arrogant personage last named, wholly unconscious of 
this scrutiny, now began to incite his horses afresh, frequently 
applying the lash with unwonted severity, and then suddenly 
curbing them in, till the spirited animals became so frantic that 
they could scarcely be restrained from dashing off at a run. The 
young faVmer, in the mean while, finding himself closely pressed 
by those behind him, without any apparent disposition on their 
part to turn out and pass by him, now veered partly out of the 
road, to give the others, with the same change in their course to 
the opposite side, an opportunity, if they chose, of going by, as 
'might easily have been done with safety to all concerned. 

“ Mr. Peters ! ” suddenly exclaimed Miss Haviland, in a tone of 
energetic remonstrance, at the same time catching at his arm, as 
if to restrain him from some intended movement, which her watch¬ 
ful eye had detected. 

This appeal, however, which was rather acted than spoken, 
was unheeded, or came too late ; for, at that instant, the chafing 
and maddened horses dashed furiously forward, directly over the 
exposed corner of the young man’s vehicle, which, under the iron- 
bound feet of the fiercely-treading animals, and the heavy sleigh 
runners that followed, came-down with a crash to the ground, leav¬ 
ing him barely time to clear himself from the wreck, by leaping 
forward into the snow. Startled by the noise behind him, the fright¬ 
ened pony made a sudden but vain effort to spring forward vyith the 
still connected remains of the jumper, which were, at the instant, 
coafmed down by the passing runners of the large sleigh; when* 
2 



14 


THE RANGERS^ 


snorting an^d wild with desperation, he reared himself upright on 
his hinder legs, and fell over backwards, striking, with nearly the 
whole weight of his body, upon his doubled neck, which all saw 
at a glance was broken by the fall. 

With eyes flashing with indignation, young W’^oodburn bounded 
forward to the head of the aggressing team, boldly seized the 
nearest horse by his nostrils and bridle curb, and, in spite of his 
desperate rearing and plunging, under the rapidly applied whip 
of the enraged driver, soon succeeded, by daring and powerful 
efforts, in bringing him and his mate to a stand. 

“ Let go there, fellow, on your peril! ” shouted Peters, chok¬ 
ing with rage at his defeat in attempting to ride over and escape 
his bold antagonist. 

“ Not till I know what all this means, sir! ” retorted Woodburn, 
with unflinching spirit. 

“Detain us if you dare, you young ruffian!’’^exclaimed the 
sheriff, protruding his harsh visage from one side of the sleigh. 
“ Begone ! or I will arrest you in the king’s name, sir! ” 

“ You will show your warrant for it first, Mr. Sheriff,” replied 
the former, turning to Patterson with cool disdain. “ I have 
nothing to do with you, sir; but I hold this horse till the outrage 
I have just received is atoned for, or at least explained.” 

“ My good friend,” interposed Jones, in a respectful manner, 
“ you must not suppose we have designedly caused your disaster. 
Our horses, which are high-mettled, as you see, took a sudden 
start, and the mischief was done before they could be turned or 
checked.” 

“ Now, let go that horse, will you, scoundrel ? ” again ex¬ 
claimed Peters, still chafing with anger, but evidently disturbed 
and uneasy under the cold, searching looks of the other. 

“ Hear me first, John Peters! ” replied Woodburn, with the 
same determined manner as before. “ I care not for your abusive 
epithets, and have only to say of them, that they are worthy of 
the source from which they proceed. But you have knowingly 
and wickedly defrauded me of my farm ; unless I obtain redress, 
as I little expect, from a court which seems so easily to see merits 
in a rich man’s claim. Yes, you have defrauded me, sir, out of 
my hard-earned farm ; and there,” he continued, pointing to his 
gasping horse, — “there lies nearly half of all my remaining 
property — dead and gone ! ay, and by your act, which, from 
signs I had previously noticed, and from the tones of that young 
lady’s exclamation at the instant, (and God bless her for a heart 
which could be kind in such company,) I shall always believe 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


15 


was wilfully committed. And if I can make good my suspicions, 
and a court of law will not give me justice, 1 will have it else¬ 
where ! There, sir, go,” he added, relinquishing his hold on the 
horse, and stepping aside, — “ go ! but remember I claim a future 
reckoning at your hands ! ” 

The sleigh now passed on to the yard of the inn, where the 
company alighted, and soon disappeared within its doors, leaving 
the young man standing alone in the road, gazing after them with 
that moody and disquieted kind of countenance which usually 
settles on the face on the subsidence of a strong gust of passion. 

“ Poor pony! ” he at length muttered, sadly, as, rousing him¬ 
self, he now turned towards his petted beast, that lay dead in his 
rude harness, — “ poor pony! But there is no help for you now, 
nor for me either, I fear, as illy as I can afford to lose you. But 
it is not so much the loss, as the manner — the manner! ” he re¬ 
peated, bitterly, as he proceeded to undo the fastenings of the 
tackle, with the view of removing the carcass and the broken 
sleigh from the road. 

While he was thus engaged, a number of men, most of them 
his townsmen, who being, like himself, on their way to court, had 
stopped at the inn; or store, near by, where the noise of the fray 
had arous*ed them, now came hastening to the spot. 

“ What is all this, Harry ? ” exclaimed the foremost, as he 
came up and threw a glance of surprise and concern on the ruins 
before him. 

“ You can see for yourselves,” was his moody reply, as others 
now arrived, and, with inquiring looks, gathered around him. 

“ Yes, yes ; but how was it done ? ” 

“ John Peters, who just drove up to the tavern, yonder, with a 
load of court gentry, run over me — that’s all,” he answered, with 
an air that showed his feelings to be still too much irritated to be 
communicative. 

But the company, among whom he seemed to be a favorite, 
were not to be repulsed by a humor for which they appeared to 
understand how to make allowance, but continued to press him 
with inquiries and soothing words, till their manifestations of sym¬ 
pathy and offers of assistance had gradually won him into a more 
cheerful mood ; when, throwing off his reserve, he thanked them 
kindly, and frankly related what he knew of the affair, the par¬ 
ticulars of which obviously produced a deep sensation among the 
listeners. All present, after hearing the recital of the facts, and 
on coupling them with the well-known disposition of Peters, and 
his previous injuries to Woodburn, at once declared their belief 


16 


THE RAl^GERS, 


that the aggression was intentional, and warmly espoused the 
cause of their outraged friend and townsman. A sort of council 
of war was then holden ; the affair was discussed and set down as 
another item in the catalogue of injuries and oppressions of which 
the court party had been guilty. Individuals were despatched 
into all the nearest houses, and elsewhere, for the purpose of dis¬ 
covering what evidence might be obtained towards sustaining a 
prosecution. It was soon ascertained, however, that no one had 
seen the fracas, except the parties in interest, — all Peters’s com¬ 
pany being so accounted, — and that, consequently, no hope re¬ 
mained of any legal redress. On this, some proposed measures 
of club-law retaliation, some recommended reprisals on the same 
principle, and others to force Peters, as soon as he should appear 
in the street, to make restitution for the loss he had occasioned. 
And so great was the excitement, that had the latter then made his 
appearance, — which, it seemed, he was careful not to do, — it is 
difficult to say what might have been his reception. But contrary 
to the expectations of all, Woodburn, who had been thoughtfully 
pacing up and down the road, a little aloof from the rest, during 
the discussion, now came forward, and, in a firm and manly man¬ 
ner, opposed all the propositions which had been made in his 
behalf. 

“ No,” said he, in conclusion, “ such measures will not hear 
thinking of. I threatened him myself with something of the 
kind you have proposed. But a little reflection has convinced me 
I was wrong; for should I take this method of obtaining redress, 
however richly he might deserve it at my hands, I should but be 
doing just what I condemn in him, and thus place myself on a 
level with him in his despicable conduct. No, we will let him 
alone, and give him all the rope he will take ; and if he don’t 
hang for his misdeeds, he will doubtless, by his conduct, aid in 
hastening on the time, which, from signs not to be mistaken, 
cannot, I think, be far distant, when a general outbreak will 
place him, and all like him, who have been riding over us here 
rough-shod for years, in a spot where he and they will need as 
much of our pity as they now have of our hatred and fear.” 

“Ay, ay,” responded several, with significant nods and looks; 
“ that time will come, and sooner than they dream of.” 

“And then,” said one, “ it will not be with us as it was with 
me last fall; when, just as winter was coming on, and milk was 
half our dependence for the children, our only cow was knocked 
^flf by a winking sheriff, for eleven and threepence, to this same 
Peters.” 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


17 


“ Nor as it was with me,” said another poorly-clad man of the 
crowd, “ when for a debt, which, before it was sued, was only the 
price of a bushM of wheat 1 bought to keep wife and little ones 
from starving, my pair of two-year-olds and seven sheep were all 
seized and sold under the hammer, for just enough to pay the debt 
and costs, to Squire Gale, the clerk of the court, who is another 
of those conniving big bugs, who are seen going round with the 
sheritT, at such times, with their pockets full of money to buy up 
the poor man’s property for a song, though never a dollar will 
they lend him to redeem it with.” 

“ No, my friends,” said a tall, stout, broad-chested man, with a 
clear, frank, and fearless countenance, who, having arrived at the 
spot as Woodburn began to speak, had been standing outside of the 
crowd, silently listening to the remarks of the different speakers, 
— “ no, my friends ; when the time just predicted arrives, it will no 
longer be as it has been with any of us. We shall then^ I trust, 
all be allowed to exercise the right which, according to my notions, 
we have from God — that of choosing our own rulers, who, then, 
would be men from among ourselves, knowing something about 
the wants and wishes of the people, and willing to provide for 
their distresses in times like these. I have little to say about indi¬ 
vidual men, or their acts of oppression ; for such men and such 
acts we may expect to see, so long as this accursed system of 
foreign rule is suffered to remain. We had better, therefore, not 
waste much of our ammunition on this or that tool of royalty, but 
save it for higher purposes. And, for this reason, I highly ap¬ 
prove of the course that my young neighbor, Woodburn, has just 
taken, in his case ; although, from what I have heard, I suspect 
it was an outrageous one.” 

“ Thank you, thank you. Colonel Carpenter,” said Woodburn, 
coming forward and cordially offering the other his hand ; “ the 
approbation of a man like you more than reconciles me to the 
course which, I confess, cost me a hard struggle to adopt.” 

“Ay, you were right, Harry,” rejoined the former, “ though a 
hard matter to bear; and though I am willing this, and all such out¬ 
rages, should go in to swell the cup of our grievances, that it may 
the sooner overflow, yet you were right; and it was spoken, too. 
like a man. But let me suggest, whether you, and all present, 
had not better now disperse. The powers that be will soon have 
their eyes upon us, and I would rather not excite their jealousy, 
at this time, on account of certain measures we have in contem¬ 
plation, which I will explain to you hereafter.” 

“ Your advice is good,” returned Woodburn, “ and I will see 
2 * 


18 


THE RANGERS, 


that it is followed, as soon as I can find son';3 one to dispose of 
the body of my luckless pony; for then I propose to throw the 
harness into some sleigh, and join such of the company here as 
are on foot on their way to court.” 

“ Put your harness aboard my double sleigh standing in the 
tavern yard yonder, Harry. And I am sorry I have too much of a 
load to ask you to ride yourself. But where shall I leave the 
harness ? ” 

“At Greenleaf’s store, at the river, if you will; for I conclude 
you are bound to Westminster, as well as the rest of us.” 

“ I am, and shall soon be along after you, as I wish to go 
through to-night, if possible, being suspicious of a flood, that may 
prevent me from getting there with a team, by to-morrow. Neither 
the rain nor thaw is over yet, if I can read prognostics. How 
strong and hot this south wind blows! And just cast your eye 
over on to West River mountain, yonder — how rapidly those 
long, ragged masses of fog are creeping up its sides towards the 
summit! That sign is never failing.” 

Wood burn’s brief arrangements were soon completed; \Vhen 
he and his newly-encountered foot companions, each provided 
with a pair of rackets, or.snow-shoes, — articles with which foot- 
travellers, when the snow was deep, often, in those times, went 
furnished, — took up their line of march down the road leading to 
the Connecticut, leaving Peters and his company, as well as all 
others who had teams, refresing themselves or their horses at the 
village inn. 

But, before we close this chapter, in order that the reader not 
versed in.the antiquarian lore of those times may more clearly 
understand some of the allusions of the preceding pages, and 
also that he may not question the probability that such a com¬ 
pany as we have introduced should be thus brought together, and 
be thus on their way to a court so far into the interior of a new 
settlement, it may not be amiss here to observe, that the sale and 
purchase of lands in Vermont at this period constituted one of the 
principal matters of speculation among men of property, not only 
those residing here, but those residing in the neighboring colonies, 
and especially in that of New York ; and that the frequent con¬ 
troversies, arising out of disputed titles, made up the chief business 
of the court, which, on the erection of a new county by the legis¬ 
lature of New York, embracing all the south-eastern part of the 
Grants^ and known by the name of Cumberland, had here, sev¬ 
eral years before, been established. And it was business of this 
kind, and the personal, in addition to the political, interest they 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


19 


had in sustaining a court, the judges of which were themselves 
said to be engaged in these speculations, and therefore expected 
to favor, as far as might be decent, their brother speculators, that 
led to the journey of the present company of loyalists, consisting, 
as before seen, of Haviland, a large landholder of Bennington; 
?eters, an unconscientious speculator in the same kind of proper¬ 
ty, belonging to a noted family of tories of that name, residing 
in Pownal, and an adjoining town in New York; and Jones, the 
agent of Fanning, from the vicinity of Fort Edward ; the fated 
Miss McRea, of sad historical memory, from the same place, 
having been induced to come on with her lover, at the previous 
solicitation of her friend. Miss Haviland, to join her, her father, 
and Peters, to whom she was affianced, in their proposed excur* 
sioi; over the mountains to court. 


20 


THE EANGERS, 


CHAPTER II. 


“ Now forced aJoft, bright bounding through the air, 
Moves the blear ice, and sheds a dazzling glare ; 
The torn foundations on the surface ride, 

And wrecks of winter load the downward tide.” 


After travelling a short distance in the road, Woodburn and hif 
companions halted, put on their snow-shoes, and, turning out to the 
left into the woods, commenced, with the long, loping step pecu¬ 
liar to the racket-shod wopdsman, their march over the surface of 
the untrodden snow. The road just named, which formed the 
usual route from the village they had quitted to their place of desti¬ 
nation, led first directly to the Connecticut, in an easterly direc¬ 
tion, and then, turning to the north, passed up the river near its 
western banks, thus describing in its course a right angle, at the 
point of which, resting on the river, stood the store of Stephen 
Greenleaf, the first, and, for a while, the only merchant in Ver¬ 
mont ; whose buildings, with those perhaps of one or two depend¬ 
ants, constituted the then unpromising nucleus around which has 
since grown up the wealthy and populous village of East Brattle- 
borough. Such being the course of the travelled route, it will 
readily be seen, that the main object of our foot company, in 
leaving it, was the saving of distance, to be effected by striking 
across this angle to some eligible point on the northern road. 
And they accordingly pitched their course so as to enter the road 
near its intersection with the Wantastiquet, or West River, — one 
of the larger tributaries of the Connecticut, — which here comes 
rolling down from the eastern side of the Green Mountains, and 
pours its rock-lashed and rapid waters into the comparatively quiet 
bosom of the ingulfing stream below. 

After a walk of about half an hour, through alternating fields 
and forest, they arrived, as they had calculated, at the banks of 
the tributary above named, where it was crossed on the ice by 
the winter road, which, owing to the failure of the rude bridge 
near the mouth of the stream,'and the difficulty of descending the 
bank in its immediate vicinity, liad been broken out through the 
adjoining meadow and over the river at this point, which was conse¬ 
quently a considerable distance above the ordinary place of crossing. 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


21 


On reaching this spot, it was found that the flood, which, on the 
high grounds, where we have last been taking the reader, was but 
little observable, had made, and was evidently still making, a 
most rapid progress. The rising waters had already forced them¬ 
selves through the small but constantly widening outlets of their 
strong, imprisoning barriers, and were beginning to hurry along, 
in two dai’k, turbid streams, over the surface of the ice, beneath 
the opposite banks, where it was still too strongly confined to the 
roots and frozen earth to permit of its rising; while the uplifting 
mass, in the middle of the river, had nearly attained the level of 
the surrounding meadows. And, although the main body still 
remained unbroken, yet the deep, dull reports that rose in quick 
succession to the ear from the cracking mass in every direction 
around, and the sharp, hissing, gurgling sounds of the water, 
which was gushing violently upwards through the fast multiplying 
fissures, together with the visible, tremor-like agitation that per¬ 
vaded the whole, plainly evinced that it could not long withstand 
the tremendous pressure of the laboring column of waters be¬ 
neath. 

The travellers, who were not to be turned back by a foot or 
two of water in their path over the jce, so long as the foundation 
remained firm, drew up a long spruce pole from a neighboring 
fence, and, shooting it forward through the first stream of water, 
passed over upon it to the uncovered ice ; and then, drawing 
their spar-bridge to the water next the other bank, went through 
the same process, till they had all reached the opposite shore un¬ 
wet and in safety. 

Here they again paused to note the appearance of the disturbed 
elements; fer, in addition to the threatening aspect which the 
river was here fast assuming, a slight trembling of the ground began 
occasionally to be perceptible ; while unusual sounds seemed to 
come mingling from a distance, with the roaring of the wind and 
the noise of rushing waters, as if earth, air, and water were all 
joining their disturbed forces for some general commotion. 

“The water and ice are strangely agitated, it appears to me,” 
observed Wood burn to his companions, as they stood looking on 
the scene before them. “ See how like a pot the water boils up 
through that crevice yonder! Then hear that swift, lumbering 
rush of the stream beneath! The whole river, indeed, seems 
fairly to groan, like some huge animal confined down by an in¬ 
supportable burden, from which it is laboring to free itself. I 
have noticed such appearances, I think, when the ice was on the 
point of breaking up ; but that can hardly be the case here, at 
present, can it ? ” 


22 


THE RANGERS, 


“ On the point of breaking up, now ? ” said one of the company, 
in reply. “ No, indeed ! Why, the ice is more than three feet 
thick, and as sound and solid as a rock. Should it rain from this 
time till to-morrow noon, it won’t start.” 

“ Well, now, I don’t know about that,” remarked an observant 
old settler, who had been silently regarding the different portents 
to which we have alluded. “ I don’t know about the ice staying 
here twenty hours, or even one. This has been no common thaw, 
,hat we have had for the last six or eight hours, let me tell you.” 

“And still,” observed Woodburn, “ 1 should not think the water 
high enough as yet to cause a breaking up, should you ? ” 

“ With a slow rise, and in a still time, perhaps not, Harry. 
But when the water is rising rapidly, as now, and especially if 
there is a strong wind, like this, to increase the motion, as it does 
eitlier by outward pressure, or by forcing the air through the 
chinks in under the ice, I have always noticed that the stream 
acts on the ice at a much less height, and much more powerfully, 
than when the rise is slow and the weather calm.” 

“ Then you look upon the appearances I named as indications 
that such an event is soon to take place here, do you ? ” 

“ I do, Harry, much sooner than you are expecting; for the signs 
you name are not the only ones which tell that story, as I will 
soon convince you all, if you will be still and listen a moment.” 

This remark caused the company to pause and place them¬ 
selves in a listening attitude. 

“ There,” resumed the speaker, pointing up to the bold, shaggy 
steeps of the mountain, which we have before alluded to, and 
which, from the opposite side of the Connecticut, and within a 
few furlongs from the spot where they now stood, rose, half con 
cealed in its “ misty shroud,” like some huge battlement, to tho 
heavens — “there ! do you hear that dull roar, with occasionally 
a crashing sound, away up there among those clouds of fog near 
the top peaks of the mountain ? ” 

“Ay, ay, quite distinctly.”. 

“ Well, that is an echo, which, strangely enough, we can hear 
when we can’t the original sound, and which is made by the 
striking up there of the roar of the river above us ; that of course 
must be open, having already broken up and got the ice in mo¬ 
tion somewhere. But hark again ! Now, don’t you hear that 
rumbling noise ? Can’t you, now, both hear and feel those quick, 
irregular, deep, jarring sounds 

“Yes, plainly — very plainly, now — you are right. Sure 
enough, the ice in the riv^**’ e us is on the move ! ” responded 
all, with excited looks. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


23 


“ To be sure it is; and from the noise it makes, it must be com¬ 
ing down upon us with the speed of a race-horse ! Let us all to 
the hills, boys, where we can get a fair view of the spectacle.” 

The company, accordingly, now all ran to gain the top of a 
neighboring swell, which commanded a view of West River for a 
long distance up the stream, as well as one of a considerable 
reach of the more distant Connecticut, both of which views were 
obstructed, at the spot they had just left, by a point of woods and 
turn in the river in the former instance, and by intervening hills 
in the latter. 

Among the many wild and imposing exhibitions of nature, pe¬ 
culiar to the mountainous regions of our northern clime, there is 
no one, perhaps, of more fearful magnificence, than that which 
is sometimes presented in the breaking up of one of our large 
rivers by a winter flood ; when the ice, in its full strength, enor¬ 
mous thickness, and rock-like solidity, is rent asunder, with loud, 
crashing explosions, and hurled up into ragged mountains, and 
borne onward before the raging torrent with inconceivable force 
and frightful velocity, spreading devastation along the banks in 
its course, and sweeping away the strongest fabrics of human 
power which stand opposed to its progress, like the feeble weeds 
that disappear from the path of a tornado. 

Such a spectacle, as they reached their proposed stand, now 
burst on the view of the astonished travellers. As far as the eye 
could reach upwards along the windings of the stream, the whole 
channel was filled with the mighty mass of ice, driving down 
towards them with fearful rapidity, and tumbling, crashing, grind¬ 
ing, and forcing its way, as it came, with collisions that shook the 
surrounding forest, and with the din and tumult of an army of 
chariots rushing together in battle. Here, tall trees on the bank 
were beaten down and overwhelmed, or, wrenched off at the roots 
and thrown upwards, were whirled along on the top of the rush¬ 
ing volume, like feathers on the tossing wave. There, the chang¬ 
ing mass was seen swelling up into mountain-like elevations, to 
roll onward a while, and, then gradually sinking away, be suc¬ 
ceeded by another in another form ; while, with resistless front, 
.. the whole immense moving body drove steadily on, ploughing 
and rending its way into the unbroken sheet of ice before it, 
which burst, divided, and was borne down beneath the boiling 
flood, or hurled upwards into the air, with a noise sometimes 
resembling the sounds of exploding muskets, and sometimes the 
crash of falling towers. 

But the noise of another and similar commotion, in an opposite 


24 


THIS RANGERS, 


direction, now attracted their attention. They turned, and their 
eyes were greeted with a scene, which, though less startling from 
its distance, yet even surpassed, in picturesque grandeur, the one 
they had just been witnessing. Through the whole visible reach 
of the Connecticut, a long, white, glittering column of ice, with 
its ridgy and bristling top towering high above the adjacent banks, 
was sweeping by and onward, like the serried lines of an army 
advancing to the charge ; while the broad valley around, even 
back to the summits of the far-off hills, was resounding with the 
deafening din that rose from the extended line of the booming 
avalanche, with the deep rumblings of an earthquake mingled 
with the tumultuous roar of an approaching tempest. 

The attention of the company, however, was now drawn from 
this magnificent display of the power of the elements,^by an 
object of more immediate interest to their feelings. This was 
an open double sleigh, approaching, on the opposite side of the 
river, towards the place at which they had just crossed over, in 
the manner we have described. The mountain mass of ice that 
was still forcing its way down the river before them, with increas¬ 
ing impetus, was now within three hundred yards of the pass, 
to which those in the sleigh were hastening, with the evident 
design of crossing. And though the latter, owing to a point of 
woods that intervened at a bend in the stream a short distance 
above, could not see the coming ice, yet they seemed aware of its 
dangerous proximity; for, as they now drove down to the edge 
of the water, they paused, and a large man, who appeared to 
have control of the team, rose to his feet, and with words that 
could not be distinguished in the roaring of the wind and the noise 
from the scene above, made an appealing gesture, which was 
readily understood by our foot travellers as an inquiry whether the 
team would have time to cross before the ice reached the spot. 

“ It is Colonel Carpenter and his company,” said Woodburn. 
“ He will ha.ve no time to spare, but enough, I think, if he in¬ 
stantly improves it, to get safely over. He has smart horses, and 
is anxious to be on this side of the river. Let him come.” 

Accordingly, they returned him encouraging gestures, which 
being seen and understood by him, he instantly wdiipped up his 
horses, and, forcing them on to the ice, soon effected his passage 
in safety, and drove rapidly down the road, leading along the 
northern bank of the stream to the Connecticut, the object of his 
speed being obviously to keep forward of the icy flood, by which 
his progress might otherwise be soon obstructed. 

“There,” resumed Woodburn, breaking the silence with which 


OK THE Tory’s daughter. 


25 


• he and his companions had been witnessing the rather hazardous 
passage of their friends, — “there, the colonel is well over; but 
his is the last sleigh to cross this year, unless it be drawn by 
winged horses.” 

“ Well, winged, or not winged, there is another, it seems, about 
to make the attempt,” said one of the company, pointing across 
the river, where a covered double sleigh, with showy equipage 
was dashing at full speed down the road towards the stream. 

“ It is a hostile craft! ” “ Peters and his gang ! ” “ We owe 

them no favors ! ” “ Let the enemy take care of themselves ! ” 

were the exclamations which burst from the recently-incensed 
group, as all eyes were now turned to the spot. 

“ O, no ! no ! ” exclaimed Woodburn, with looks of the most 
lively concern. “ Be they foes or friends, they must not be suf¬ 
fered to enter upon that river. Why, the breaking ice has already 
nearly reached the bend, and unless it stops there, that path 
across the stream, within five minutes, will be as traceless as 
the ocean ! Run down to the bank, and hail them ! ” he contin¬ 
ued, turning to those around him. “ I fear they would not listen 
to me. Will no one go to warn them against an attempt which 
must prove their destruction ? ” he added, reproachfully glancing 
around him. 

“ Shall we interfere unasked ? ” said one, who was smarting 
under a sense of former injuries ; “ ay, and interfere, too, to save 
such a man as Peters, that he may go on robbing us of our 
farms ? ” 

“ And save such a man as Sheriff Patterson, also, that he may 
hang the innocent and pious Herriot ? ” said another, bitterly. 

“ And save them all, that they may keep up the court which will 
soon hang or rob the whole of us ? ” added a third, in the same 
spirit. 

“ O, wrong — wickedly wrong! and, if no one will go, I must,” 
cried Woodburn, turning hastily from the spot, and making his 
way down the hill towards the river with all the speed he was 
master of. 

A few seconds sufficed to bring him to the edge of the stream; 
when, in a voice that rose above the roar of the wind and waters 
around, he called on Peters, who was already urging his reluctant 
and snorting horses down the opposite bank into the water, warned 
him of the situation of the ice, and begged him, as he valued the 
lives of his friends, to desist from his perilous attempt. 

“ Do you think to frighten me ? ” shouted Peters, who, per¬ 
ceiving the speaker to be his despised opponent, became suspi 
3 


26 


THE HANGEES, 


cious, as the latter had feared, that the warning was but a ruse, to 
prevent him from going on that night, — “ do you think to frighten 
me back, liar, when a heavy team has just passed safely over 
before my eyes ? ” 

And, in defiance of the timely caution he had received, and the 
warning sounds, of which his senses might have apprised him, 
had he paused a moment to listen, he furiously applied the whip, 
and plunged madly through the water towards the middle ice. 
But as rapidly as he drove, the team had not passed over more 
than one third of the distance across, before he and all with him 
became fully aware of the fearful peril they had so recklessly 
incurred ; for, at this critical moment, with awful brunt, the 
mountain wave of icy ruins came rolling round the screening 
point into full view, and not fifty yards above them. A cry of 
alarm at once burst from every occupant of the menaced vehi¬ 
cle ; and Peters, no less frightened than the rest, suddenly checked 
the horses, with the half-formed design of turning and attempting 
to regain the shore he had just left. But on glancing round, he 
beheld, to his dismay, the ice burst upward from its winter moor¬ 
ings along the shore, leaving between them and the bank a dark 
chasm of whirling waters, over which it were madness to think 
of repassing. At that instant, with a deep and startling report, 
the broad sheet of ice confining the agitated river burst asunder, 
parted, and was afloat in a hundred pieces around them. Another 
piercing cry of terror and distress issued from the devoted sleigh ; 
and Miss Haviland, with an involuntary impulse at the fearful 
shock, leaped out on to the large cake of ice on which the sleigh 
and horses were resting. She seemed instantly to perceive her 
error ; but before she could regain the sleigh, or even be caught 
by the extended hands of her friends, the frightened horses made 
a sudden and desperate lunge forward, and, with a speed that 
could neither be checked nor controlled, dashed onward over the 
dissevering mass, leaping from piece to piece of their sinking 
support, and each in turn falling in, to be drawn out by his mate, 
till they reached the shore, and rushed furiously up the bank, be¬ 
yond the sweep of the dreadful torrent from which they had so 
miraculously escaped. 

“ O God of heaven, have mercy on my daughter ! ” exclaimed 
Haviland, in a piteous burst of anguish, as he sprang out of the 
sleigh among the company, who, with horror-stricken looks, stood 
on the bank mutely gazing on the fast receding form of the luck¬ 
less maiden, thus leh behind, to be borne away, in all human 
probability, to speedy destruction. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


27 


For a moment no one stirred or spoke, all standing aujazed, 
and seemingly paralyzed at the thought of her awful situation, 
having no hope of her rescue, and expecting every instant to 
see her crushed, or ingulfed among the ice that was wildly 
heaving and tumbling on every side around her. But fortunatel)' 
for her, the broad, solid block, on which she had alighted, and on 
which she continued still to retain her stand, was, by the sub* 
merged and rising masses beneath, gradually and evenly forced 
upwards to the top of the column, with which it was moving 
swiftly down the current. And there she stood, like a marblo 
statue on its pedestal, sculptured for some image of woe, her 
bonnet thrown back from her blanched features, and her loosened 
hair streaming wildly in the wind ; while one hand was extended 
doubtfully towards the shore, and the other lifted imploringly 
to heaven, as if in supplication for that aid from above, which 
she now scarcely hoped to receive from her friends below. 

“ O Sabrey, Sabrey ! must you indeed perish ? ” at length 
burst convulsively from Miss McRea, in the most touching accents 
of distress. 

“ Is there no help ? Can no one save her } ” added the ago¬ 
nized father. 

“Yes, save her — save her!” exclaimed Peters, now eagerly 
addressing the men he affected so to despise. “ Can’t some of 
you get on to the ice there, and bring her off? Five guineas to 
the man who will do it; yes, ten I Quick ! run, run, or you’ll be 
too late,” he added, turning, from one to another, without offering 
to start himself. 

Throwing a look of silent scorn on his contemptible foe. Wood- 
burn, having been anxiously casting about him in thought for some 
means of rescuing the ill-fated girl from her impending doom, 
now, with the air of one acting only on his own responsibility, 
hastily called on his companions to follow him, and led the way, with 
rapid strides, down along the banks of the stream, as near the main 
channel as the water and ice, already bursting over the banks into 
the road, would permit. But although he could easily keep abreast 
of the fair object of his anxiety, of whom he occasionally ob¬ 
tained such glimpses through the brushwood here lining the banks 
as to show him that she still retained her footing on the same 
block of ice, which still continued to be borne on with the sur¬ 
rounding mass, yet he could perceive no way of reaching her — 
no earthly means by which she could be snatched from the terri¬ 
ble doom that seemed so certainly to await her; for along the 
whole extent of the moving ice, and even many rods in advance 


28 


THE RANGERS, 


of it, the water, dammed up, and forced from the choked chan» 
nel, was gusliing over the banks, and sweeping down by their 
sides in a stream that nothing could withstand. And, to add to 
the almost utter hopelessness with which he was compelled to view 
her situation, he now soon began to be admonished that she was 
immediately threatened by a danger from which she had thus far 
been so providentially preserved — that of being crushed or 
swallowed up at once in the broken ice. He could perceive, from 
the increasing commotion of the ice around her, that her hitherto 
level and unbroken support was growing every moment more 
insecure and uncertain. And as it rose and fell, or was pitched 
forward and thrown up aslant, in the changing volume, he could 
plainly hear her piteous shrieks, and see her flying from side to 
side of the plunging body, to avoid being hurled into the frightful 
chasms which were continually yawning to receive her. 

“ Lost! lost! ” he uttered with a sigh ; “ no earthly aid can now 
avail her. But stay ! stay ! ” he continued, as his eye fell on the 
two or three remaining beams or string-pieces of the old bridge 
still extended across the river a short distance below. “ If she 
reaches that place alive, and I can but gain the spot in time, I 
may yet save her. O Heaven, help me to the speed and the 
means of rescuing her from this dreadful death ! ” 

And calling loudly to his companions, whom he had already 
outstripped, to come on, he now set forward, with all possible 
speed, for the place which afforded the last chance for the poor 
girl’s rescue. The banks of the river, at the point which it was 
now his object to gain, were so much more elevated than those 
above, that he had little fear of finding the path leading on to the 
bridge obstructed by the water. And it had glanced through his 
mind, as he descried this forgotten spot, and saw the remains of 
the bridge still standing, that the maiden might here be assisted 
to escape on to the bank, or be drawn up by a cord, or some other 
implement, to the top of the bridge, which, being high above the 
ordinary level of the water, would not probably be swept away by 
the ice, at least not till that part of it on which she was situated 
should have passed under it. There was an occupied log-house 
standing but a short distance from the place, and the owner, as 
Woodburn drew near, was, luckily, just making his appearance at 
the door. 

“ A rope, a rope ! be ready with a rope,” shouted Woodburn, 
pointing to the scene of trouble, as-soon as he could make him¬ 
self understood by the wondering settler. 

The man, after a hurried glance from the speaker to the indi« 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


29 


cated scene, and thence to the bridge below, during which he 
seemed to comprehend the nature of the emergency, instantly 
disappeared within the door. In another moment Woodburn 
came up, and burst into the house, where he found the settler and 
his wife eagerly running out the rope of their bedstead, which had 
been hastily stripped of the bed and clothing, and the fastenings 
cut, for the purpose. The instant the rope was disengaged, it 
was seized by the young man, who, bidding the other to follow, 
rushed out of the house, and bounded forward to the bridge, 
which they both reached just as the unbroken ice was here be¬ 
ginning to quake and move from the impulse of the vast body 
above, which, now scarcely fifty paces distant, was driving down, 
with deafening crash, towards them. 

Thank Heaven, she yet lives, and is nearing us! ” exclaimed 
Woodburn, as he ran out on to the partially covered beams of the 
bridge, where he could obtain a clear view of the channel above. 
“ She is there, hedged in, though as yet riding securely in the 
midst of that hideous jam, but, if not drawn up here, will be the 
next moment lost among the spreading mass, as it is disgorged 
into the Connecticut here below.” 

“ Shall we throw down an end of the rope for her to catch ? ” 
said the settler, hastening to Woodburn’s side. 

“ I dare not risk her strength to hold on to it; I must go down 
myself,” said Woodburn, hurriedly knotting the two ends of the 
cord round his body. “ Now stand by me, my friend. Brace 
yourself back firmly on this string-piece ; let me down, and the 
instant I have secured her in my arms, draw us both up together.” 

“ I can let you down ; but to draw you both up-” replied 

the other, hesitating at the thought of the hazardous attempt. 

‘‘ You must try it,” eagerly interrupted the intrepid young man. 
“ My friends will be here in a moment to aid you. There she 
comes ! be ready ! Now ! ” 

Accordingly, sliding over the edge of the bridge, Woodburn was 
gradually let down by the strong and steady hands of the settler, 
-till he was swinging in the air, on a level with that part of the 
approaching mass on which stood the half-senseless object of his 
perilous adventure. The foremost of the broken ice was now 
sweeping swiftly by, just beneath his feet. Another moment, 
and she will be there ! She evidently sees the preparation for 
her deliverance ; a faint cry of joy escapes her lips, and her 
hands are extended towards the proffered aid. And now, 
riding high on the billowy column, she is borne on nearer and 
nearer towards those who wait, in breathless silence, for her 
3 * 



30 


THE RANGERS, 


■ approach. And now she comes — she is there ! She is caught 
in the eager gwisp of the brave youth ; and, the next instant, by 
the giantsefPbrt Df the strong man above them, they are together 
drawn up within a few feet of the bending and tottering bridge. 
But with all his desperate exertions, he can raise them no higher; 
and there they hang suspended over the dark abyss of whirling 
waters that had opened in the disrupturing mass beneath, at the 
instant, as if to receive them ; while a mountain billow of ice, 
that must overwhelm them with certain destruction, is rolling 
down, with angry roar, within a few rods of the spot. A groan 
of despair burst from the exhausted man at the rope ; and his 
grasp was about to give way. 

“ Hold on there, an instant! one instant longer ! ” cried a loud 
voice on the right, where a tall, muscular form was seen bound¬ 
ing forward to the spot. 

“ Quick, Colonel Carpenter! quick ! O, for God’s sake, quick ! ” 
exclaimed the settler, throwing an anguished and beseeching 
glance over his shoulder towards the other. 

The next instant, the powerful frame of the new-comer was 
bending over the grasped rope ; and, in another, both preservers 
and preserved were on the bridge, from which they had barely 
time to escape, before it was swept away, with a loud crash, and 
borne off on the top of the mighty torrent. They were met on 
the bank by the companions of Wood burn, and the friends of the 
rescued maiden, who came promiscuously running to the spot; 
when loud and long were the gushing acclamations of joy and 
gratitude .hat rang wildly up to heaven at the unexpected deliv¬ 
erance. 


OB THE toby’s DAtTGHTER, 


3 ) 


CHAPTER III. 


“The king can make a belted knight, 
Confer proud names, and a’ that; 
But pith of sense and pride of worth 
Are brighter ranks than a’ that.” 


The village of Westminster yields, perhaps, in the tranquil 
and picturesque beauty of its location, to few others in New Eng¬ 
land. In addition to the advantage of a situation along the banks 
of that magnificent river, of which our earliest epic poet, Barlow, 
in his liquid numbers, has sung, 

“ No -watery glades through richer valleys shine, 

Nor drinks the sea a lovelier wave than thine,” 

it stands upon an elevated plain, that could scarcely have been 
made more level had it been smoothed and evened, by the instru¬ 
ments of art, to fit it for the arena of some vast amphitheatre, 
which the place, with the aid of a little fancy, may be very easily 
thought to resemble ; for, from the principal street, which is 
nearly a mile in extent, broad and beautiful fields sweep away in 
every direction, till they meet, in the distance, that crescent-like 
chain of hills, by which, with the river, the place is enclosed. 

It was probably this natural beauty of the place, together with 
its proximity to the old fort at Walpole, at which a military estab¬ 
lishment was once maintained by the government of New Hamp¬ 
shire for the protection of its frontier, that led to the early set- 
tlem.ent and rapid growth of this charming spot, which, having 
been entered by the pioneers as far back as 1741, continued so to 
increase and prosper, though on the edge of a wilderness un¬ 
broken, for many years, for hundreds of miles on the north, that, 
at the opening of the American revolution, it was the most popu¬ 
lous and best built village in Vermont. 

This place, at the period chosen for the beginning of our tale, 
had been, for several years, the seat of justice for all the south¬ 
ern part of this disputed territory, under the assumed jurisdiction 
of New York, in which a majority of the inhabitants seemed to 
have tacitly acquiesced. And the most prominent of its public 
buildings, as might be expected, was the Court House, embracing 




32 


THE HANGERS, 


the jail under the same roof. This was a spacious square ed jfice, 
conspicuously located, and of very respectable architecture for 
the times. The village, also, contained a meeting-house, school- 
house, and the usual proportion of stores and taverns. The whole 
place, indeed, had now nearly passed into the second stage of 
existence, in American villages, when the pioneer log-houses have 
given place to the more airy and elegant framed buildings; ana, 
compared with other towns, which, in this new settlement, were 
then just emerging from the wilderness, it wore quite an ancient 
appearance. 

Among the most commodious and handsome of the many 
respectable dwellings which had here been erected, was that of 
Crean Brush, Esquire, colonial deputy secretary of New York, 
and also an active member of the legislature of that colony for 
this part of her claimed territory. This house, at the sessions 
of the courts, especially, was the fashionable place of resort for 
what was termed the court party gentry, and other distinguished 
persons from abroad. To the interior of this well-furnished and 
affectedly aristocratic establishment, we will now repair, in order 
to resume the thread of our narrative. 

In an upper chamber of the house, at a late hour of the same 
evening on which occurred the exciting scenes described in the 
preceding pages, sat the two young ladies, to whom the reader 
has already been introduced, silently indulging in their different 
reveries before an open fire. They had safely arrived in town, 
about an hour before, with all their company, except Jones, who 
had been left at Brattleborough ; and having been consigned to the 
family of this mansion, with whom they had formed a previous 
acquaintance at Albany, where Brush, the greater part of the’ 
year, resided, and where both of the young ladies were educated, 
they had taken some refreshment, and retired to the apartment 
prepared for their reception. The demeanor of these fair com¬ 
panions, always widely different, was particularly so at the present 
moment. Miss Havikind, with her chin gracefully resting on one 
folded hand, and her calm and beautiful, but now deeply-clouded 
brow, shaded by the white, taper fingers of the other, was ab¬ 
stractedly gazing into the glowing coals on the hearth before her; 
while the gentle, but less reflective McRea, with a countenance 
disturbed only by the passing emotions of sympathy that occasion¬ 
ally flitted over it, as she glanced at the downcast face of her 
friend, sat quietly preparing for bed, by removing her ornaments, 
and adjusting those long, golden tresses, with which, in after 
times, her memory was destined to become associated, in the 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


33 


minds of tearful thousands, while reading the melancholy history 
of her tragic fate. 

“ Come, Sabrey,” at length said the latter, soothingly, “ come, 
cheer up. I cannot bear to see you so dejected. I would not 
brood over that frightful scene any longer, but, feeling grateful 
and happy at my escape, would dismiss it as soon as possible from 
my mind.” 

“ I am, Jane,” responded the other, partially rousing herself 
from her reverie ; “ I am both grateful and happy at my provi¬ 
dential escape. But you are mistaken in supposing it is that scene 
which disquiets me to-night.” 

“ Indeed ! ” replied the former, with a look of mingled surprise 
and curiosity. “ Why, I have been attributing your dejection and 
absence of mind, this evening, to that cause alone. What else 
can have occurred to disturb your thoughts to-night, let me 
ask.? ” 

“ Jane, in confidence, I will tell you,” replied Miss Haviland, 
looking the other in the face, and speaking in a low, serious tone. 
“ It is the discovery which I have made, or at least think I have, 
this day, made, respecting the true character of one who should 
command, in the relation I stand with him, my entire esteem.” 

“ Mr. Peters ? Though of course it is he to whom you allude. 
But what new trait have you discovered in him, to-day, that leads 
you to distrust his character ? ” 

“ What I wish I had not; what I still hope I may. be deceived 
in ; but what, nevertheless, forces itself upon my mind, in spite of 
all my endeavors to resist it. You recollect Mr. Jones’s account 
of the lawsuit, in which Mr. Peters succeeded in obtaining the 
farm of this Mr. Woodburn, whose gallant conduct we have all 
this afternoon witnessed .? ” 

“ Yes, certainly.” 

“ Well, did you think that story, when rightly viewed, was very 
creditable to Mr. Peters ? ” 

“ I am not sure I understood the case sufficiently to judge ; did 
you ? ” 

“ Well enough, Jane, with the significant winks that passed 
between Peters and the sheriff, to convince me that an unjust 
advantage had been taken. But perhaps I could have been 
brought to believe myself mistaken in this conclusion, had I seen 
nothing else to confirm it, and lower him still more in my 
esteem.” 

“ What else did you see } 

“ An exhibition of malice, Jane, which astonished as much aa 


34 


TTTE RANGERS, 


it pained me. T at pretended accident, in running over Wooa 
burn, was designed — ay, coolly designed.” 

“ Why, Sabrey Haviland ! how can you talk, how can you 
believe, so about one whose betrothing ring is now on your fin- 
ger ? ” 

“ It is indeed painful to do so ; but truth compels me.” 

“ Might you not have been mistaken ? ” 

“ No; I saw the whole movement. I had been watching him 
some time, and I noticed how he prepared those fiery hor,ses of 
his for a sudden spring, and saw the look of malicious exultation 
accompanying the final act. A nd even now, I shudder to think what 
guilt he might have incurred ! Even as it resulted, only in the 
destruction of property, how can I help being shocked at the dis¬ 
covery of a secret disposition which could have prompted such 
a deed ? O, how different has been the conduct of him who has 
thus been made the victim of his misusage ! ” 

“ Different! Why, what has he done ? I was not aware-” 

“ True, I am reminded that I have not told you. That loqua¬ 
cious landlady, where we stopped to dine, told me, as we were 
coming away, that there had been a great excitement among the 
people in the street, about the outrage; and that Peters would 
certainly have been mobbed, if Woodburn had not interfered and 
prevented it.” 

“ Indeed ! I should have hardly expected so much magnanimity 
in one of his class. It was truly a noble return for the injuries 
he had received from Peters.” 

“ Ay, and by this last act of saving my life, he has still more 
nobly revenged himself upon Peters, and upon us all.” 

“ Assisted to save you, I conclude you mean ; for I heard Pe¬ 
ters tell your father, that it was the settler who lived in the house 
near by, and Colonel Carpenter, who finally rescued you.” 

“ Did he tell my father that story, without mentioning Wood- 
burn ? ” asked Miss Haviland, with a look of mingled surprise 
and displeasure. 

“ Yes, as he came back to meet us with the news, whilp 
were getting round with the sleigh to the spot.” 

“ Well, my father shall know the truth of the case ; and Mr. 
Woodburn, though he did not boast of his services, nor even stay 
to give me an opportunity to thank him for what he had done, 
shall also know that we are not insensible to his gallant conduct; 
for, whatever they may say, Jane, I am indebted to him for my 
life. As dreadful as was my situation among that crashing mass 
of ice, with which I was borne onward down the stream, I savf 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


35 


all that was done. He led the way from the first, contrived the 
plan, and with the assistance of the hesitating settler, carried it 
into execution, with a promptitude that alone could have saved 
me. It is true, that we both must have perished but for the timely 
arrival of Colonel Carpenter; but that detracts nothing from the 
merits of Mr. Woodburn, who, as we hung suspended over that 
frightful abyss, I knew and felt, was throwing his life to the 
• winds to save mine. O, why could it not have been, as I have 
often said to myself during our cheerless ride this evening, — why 
could it not have been Peters, to perform all that I have this day 
seen in that poor, despised, and persecuted young man ? ” 

“ Why, Mr. Peters certainly appeared much alarmed, and anx¬ 
ious that something should be done to save you,” replied Miss 
McRea, after a thoughtful pause, produced by the words and fer¬ 
vid manner of her companion. 

“ Then why did he leave it to another to save me ” responded 
the former, severely. 

“ That I do not know, certainly,” replied the other ; “ but he 
at once bestirred himself, and I heard him offer five guineas, and 
1 tiiink he doubled the price the next moment, to any one who 
would go on to the ice and bring you off.” 

“ Five guineas ! ” exclaimed Miss Haviland, starting to her 
feet, with a countenance eloquent with scorn and contempt; “ five 
guineas, and at a pinch, ten ! What a singular fountain must that 
be, from which such a thought, at such a time, could have flowed ! 
Plad it been one of those favorite horses, it would have sounded 
well enough, perhaps, though I thiiik he would have offered more. 
It is well, however, that I now know the price at which I am esti¬ 
mated,” she added, bitterly. 

“ It does sound rather strangely, now you have named it,” re¬ 
sponded Miss McRea, abashed at the unexpected construction put 
on what she had communicated, and mortified and half vexed, 
that every attempt she had made to remove her friend’s difficul¬ 
ties only made the matter worse : “ it sounds oddly, to be sure; 
but I presume he did not mean any thing.” 

“ O, no, I dare say; nor did he do any thing, as I can learn, 
through the whole affair, except attempt to deprive Woodburn of 
the credit he had gained. Jane,” she continued, with softened 
tone, “ what would you have thought, had you been in my situa¬ 
tion, and your lover had acted such a part 

“I should have thought — I don’t know what I should have 
thought,” replied the other, with a feeling which showed how 
quickly the appeal had taken effect. “ But I should have had no 


«>6 


THE RANGERS, 


occasion to have ar.y thought about it; for 1 know he would have 
been the one to save me, or die with me. O, I wish Mr. Jones 
had come on with us, for had he been there, so good and so brave 
as he is, I am sure even you need not have become so deeply 
indebted to this low young fellow.” 

“ Low, Jane, low > ” said the former, reprovingly. “ Was it low 
to overlook so easily the injury and affront he had received from 
Peters, and then return good for evil } And was it low to rescue 
me from the raging flood, by exertions and risk of life, which 
would have done credit to the first hero in the land } ” 

“ O, no, not that; I did not mean that; for his conduct has been 
generous and noble indeed; and from the first, when I heard Mr. 
Jones’s account of him, I was disposed to think highly of the 
man, for one in his situation of life. I only meant that he did 
not belong to our party, but was one of the lower classes of 
society.” 

“ It is true he may not belong to our party, Jane ; but how 
much should that weigh in the argument } Perhaps at this very 
hour, two thirds of the American people would count it as weight 
in the other part of the balance. And even I, trained as I have 
been by and among the highest toned loyalists, wish I could help 
doubting that our party is the only one that has right and reason 
on its side. And as to the claim of belonging to what is called 
the first society, I can only say that I wish many, who are allowed 
that claim among us, were as worthy of the place as I think 
Woodburn is. I have always loved Justice for her beautiful self, 
and hated her opposite ; and I never could see how those who are 
guided by her and the kindred virtues, could be accounted low, 
or how, or why, those who lack these qualities could claim to be 
called high. Is it any wonder then, Jane, that I should feel 
troubled and distressed at discoveries which, in my mind,Teverse 
the situation that my friends assign to the two individuals of 
whom we have been speaking ? ” 

‘‘ O, you are too much of a philosopher for me in all that,” 
replied Jane. “ Come, be a woman now, Sabrey, and I will dis¬ 
cuss the matter with you, claiming, perhaps, a litile, a very little 
of the right of the confessor. I can easily understand how pain¬ 
ful it would be to have doubts of the character of one’s lover; 
and I can also understand,” she continued, looking a little archly, 
“ how one, who did not love a suitor very hard, could feel grate¬ 
ful— yes, very grateful — to a good-looking young man who had 

behaved gallantly. And I have a good mind to half suspect- 

“ Hark ! ” interrupted the other, hurriedly, while a slight tinge 


OR THE TORY S DAUGHTER. 


37 


became visible on her cheek—“ hark ! did you hear the striking 
of the house clock below ? It is telling the hour of midnight. 
Let us dismiss these embarrassing thoughts, and retire to our re¬ 
pose. Your prosp?.3ts, Jane,” she continued, rising and speaking 
in a sad and gently expostulatory tone — “ your prospects are 
bright with love and happiness ; and it will be ungenerous and 
cruel in you to say aught which will deepen the shade that I fear 
is coming over mine.” 

“ O, I will not, Sabrey,” warmly returned the kind-hearted 
Tane. “ I did not intend it. Forgive me, do ; and we will dismiss 
the subject for something which will give us pleasanter dreams, 
and then, as you say, go to rest and enjoy them.” 

Leaving these fair friends to their* slumbers, disquieted or 
sweetened by the various visions which the incidents of the day 
had been calculated to excite in the bosom of each, we will now 
repair to a lower apartment of the house, to note the doings of a 
select band of court dignitaries there assembled, for a purpose 
concerning which a spectator, at the first glance, might, from the 
appearances, be at a loss to decide whether it was one of revelry 
or secret consultation, so much did it partake of the character of 
both. 

Around a long table, well furnished with wine and glasses, sat 
a select company of gentlemen, whose dress and deportment 
denoted them to be persons of the first consequence. And such, 
indeed, may be said to have been the fact, till the present time; 
for the party embraced the judges and officers of the court, and 
such of the most stanch and influential of their supporters as 
could be convened for a special consultation, which, it was con¬ 
sidered, the portents of the times demanded. Here was the aris-. 
tocratic and haughty Brush, the host, and leading spirit of the 
party, with his florid face, cracking his jokes and ridiculing “ the 
boorish settlers,” in which he was sure to find a ready response 
in the boisterous laugh of Peters and other young supporters of 
the court and loyal party. Here, too, sat the fiery and profane 
Gale, the clerk of the court, with his thin, angular features, and 
forbidding brow, occasionally exploding with his short, bitter, 
barking laugh, as, with many an oath, he dealt out anticipated 
vengeance on all those who should dare cross the path of tbe 
established authorities. And here also was Chandler, the chief 
judge of the court, with his plausible manners, affectedly sincere 
look, and deferential smile, as he exchanged the whisper and 
meaning glance with his colleague. Judge Sabin, a stern, re¬ 
served, and bigoted loyalist, or as he nodded approbation to the 
4 


38 


THE RANGERS, 


remarks, whatever they might be, of those around him. These, 
with Stearns, a tory lawyer of some note, Rogers, a tory land¬ 
holder, Haviland, and a few others, all leading and trusty sup¬ 
porters of the court party, constituted the company, or rather the 
cabinet council, here convened, all of whom, as appeared by the 
entire freedom of tdieir remarks, were fully in each other’s con¬ 
fidence. 

There was one perso in the room, however, who had no 
thought or feeling in com non with the rest of those present, but 
who did not appear to be deemed by them of sufficient conse¬ 
quence to be interrogated in relation to his opinions, or of suffi¬ 
cient capacity to comprehend what was said in his presence, at 
least not to any degree which might render it unsafe that he 
should hear the discussion so unreservedly going forward- This 
person, who was acting in the capacity of waiter to the company, 
being under a tempomry engagement to the master of the house, 
to serve him in such work as might be wanted about the house 
and stables, was a youth, of perhaps eighteen, of quite an ordi- 
, nary, and even singular appearance. His figure was low and 
slight, and he was made to appear the more diminutive, perhaps, 
by his dress, which consisted of short trousers, a long, coarse 
jacket, and a flat woollen cap, drawn down to the eyebrows. His 
hair, hanging, in lank locks, to his shoulders, was light and sandy, 
and his face was deeply freckled ; while a pair of long, falling 
eyelashes contributed to add still further to the peculiarity of his 
looks, and to give his countenance, with those wlio did not note 
the keen, bright orbs that occasionally peeped from their usually 
impenetrable coverts, a sleepy and listless appearance. He now 
sai on the top of a high wood-box, placed near one corner of the 
chimney, with his legs dangling over one end of the box, and his 
head drooping sluggishly towards the fire, apparently as uncon¬ 
scious of what was said and done m the room, as the little black 
dog that lay sleeping on the floor beneath" his feet. 

“Here, Bart,” exclaimed Brush, as the‘company, having 
dropped the discussion of all weighty matters, were now briskly 
circulating the bottle, and beginning to give way to noisy merri¬ 
ment— “ here, Bart, you sleepy devil, come and snuft'these can¬ 
dles. Our chap here,” he continued, winking archly to those 
around him — “ our chap Bart, or Barty Burt, to give the whole of 
his euphonious name, gentlemen, may be considered an excelleni 
specimen of the rebel party, who talk so wisely about self-gov¬ 
ernment, sitting under one’s own vine and fig-tree, and all that 
Bori of thing ; for, in the first place, he has a great deal of wis- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


39 


dom, handy to be got at, it all lying in his face. And then he is 
so much for self-government that no one can govern him in 
any thing. Then again, as to the idea of sitting under a fig-tree, 
I think it is one that Bart would most naturally entertain; for had 
he a tree to sit under, be it fig or bass-wood, and enough to eat, 
he would sit there till he was gray, before he would think of 
moving.” 

“Not badly drawn, that similitude,” said Stearns, after the 
burst of laughter, by which these remarks were greeted, had a 
little subsided ; “ but methinks I see a flaw therein, friend Brush : 
you said our young republican’s wisdom, alias ideas, all lay in 
his face ; and then, in the matter of the fig-tree, you go on to 
intimate he has one distinct idea in his head, thereby lessening 
the force and exactness of the comparison, as 1 think you will 
allow.” 

“ I crave pardon, gentlemen,” cried the secretary ; “ I should 
have qualified; for, really, I have several times seriously sus¬ 
pected Bart to have ideas, or, at least, one whole idea of his 
own; and if you think that is too much to allow the individuals 
of the party generally, with whom I have compared him, why, 
then I must knock under, that’s all.” 

“ You are down ! you are down, then. Brush ! ” shouted sev¬ 
eral, with another uproarious burst of laughter. 

Bart, the chief butt of this ridicule, in the mean while, was mov¬ 
ing quietly about the room in performance of his bidden tasks, 
without appearing to notice a word that was uttered ; and but foi 
a certain rapid twinkling that might have been seen in his eyes, 
which, as he deliberately returned to his seat in the corner, were 
opened to an unusual extent, one would have supposed him utterly 
insensible to all the taunts and jeering laughter of which he had 
thus publicly been made the victim. 

“ Ah ! Patterson, here you are then, at last,” exclaimed Gale, 
as the former, with a disturbed and angry countenance, now 
came pushing his way into the midst of the company. “We 
have done nothing but drink and joke since you went out, 
scarcely; at all events, we have concluded on nothing, except to 
wait and learn the result of your discoveries: so now for your 
report.” 

“ Ay, ay, Mr. Sheriff,” responded Brush. “ But stay, take 
breath, and a glass of this glorious old Madeira, first. There! 
now tell us how the land lies abroad to-night.” 

“ It lies but little to my liking,” growled the sheriff, with an oath 
‘ The rascally dogs have altogether stolen the march of us. They 



40 


THE RANGERS, 


have been swarming into town all the evening, as thick as bees, 
while not more than a dozen of our flint-and-steel men have yet 

got on to the ground. It beats Belzebub !-” 

“ Our witnesses,” quickly interposed Judge Chandler, bowing 
with a significant smile and cautionary wink, while he threw a 
sidelong glance towards Bart, whom the wary eye of the judge 
had detected in slightly changing his position, so as to bring his 
ear more directly towards the speakers — “our witnesses and 
quarrelling suitors in court you mean, of course ? ” 

“ Why, yes — yes, your honor—if you think that necessary,” 
replied Patterson, following the direction of the other’s glance, 
and then looking inquiring!} at Brush, as if to ask whether there 
was any danger to be apprehended from talking before the servant. 

“ Pooh!—nonsense I” said Brush, readily understanding the 
mute appeal. “ Nonsense ! You could not make him compre¬ 
hend what we are talking about in six weeks, if you should do 
your prettiest. Why, the fellow has not two ideas above a jackass! 
— so talk out.” 

“ Well, then,” resumed the sheriff, in a lower tone, “ I have 
satisfied myself that the rebels are plotting like so many Satans, 
and are in earnest about carrying their threat into execution. 
Now, the question is, what shall be done—yield the point and 
submit to be turned out of the Court House to-morrow, as if we 
were a pack of unruly boys, or what ? ” 

' “Yield!” fiercely exclaimed Gale—“not till my pistol 

bullets have drank the heart’s blood of the d-d rascals, first.” 

“Ay, Gale,” responded Brush, “ that would be well enough, * 
but for one small difficulty, which is, that these demi-savages un¬ 
derstand quite as much of that kind of play as we do ; and so long 
as they outnumber us so greatly, the fun of doing what you would 
propose might be less than talking about it. Let us have Chan¬ 
dler’s opinion. What course is it best to take, judge ? ” 

“ Temporize ! ” replied the latter, in a low, emphatic tone, and 

with a look of peculiar significance — “ temporize till-” 

“ Till we can help ourselves,” said Patterson, taking up the 
sentence where the other left it, or rather finishing in words what 
had been expressed by looks. 

“ That’s just my notion,” remarked Stearns. “ Let them see 
and be assured that we are for peace, and want nothing but 
what is right; all of which may be said truly. And in this man¬ 
ner, if the thing is well managed, their suspicions can be allayed; 
and we can get possession of the Court House as soon as our 
friends get on, which will be by to-monow noon — will it not, 
Patterson ? 





OR THE Tory’s daughter 


41 


Yes, unless this cussed flood has carried away all the roads, 
as well as bridges,” gruffly replied the sheriff*. “ Yes, and if 
these mobbing knaves can be kept quiet till then, we shall be in a 
situation to ask no favors.” 

“And grant none,” said Sabin, with cool bitterness. 

“ You don’t learn,” asked Chandler, with feigned indifference — 
“ you don’t learn that the people have brought any offensive im¬ 
plements with them, do you, Patterson ? It might be done 
covertly, you know. Has this been seen to, by proper measures, 
— such as examining the straw in the bottoms of their sleighs, and 
the like ” . 

“ Yes, thoroughly,” returned the former; “ they have brought 
no arms with them, at any rate. We are undoubtedly indebtedjo 
your hbnor’s skilful management with them at Chester for that.” 

“Ay, ay,” interposed Stearns, “ nobody but the judge could 
have executed that piece of diplomacy with the fellows. And no 
one but he can carry out the business successfully now. His 
honor must be the one to undertake it.” 

“ Certainly.” “ The very man.” “ He must do it.” “ They 
would listen to none of us.” “ The thing is settled, and he must 
gc ” unanimously responded the company. 

“ I really feel flattered, gentlemen,” replied Chandler, bowing 
and waving his hand towards the company — “ highly flattered 
by your opinion of my capacity to negotiate in this delicate affair. 
But you will understand, in case I accede to your wishes, gen¬ 
tlemen,” he continued, with a look of peculiar meaning — “ you 
will understand that I am to be considered, on all hands, as utterly 
opposed to coercive measures — to all — I am understood, I sup¬ 
pose, gentlemen ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, judge,” returned the others, with knowing winks 
and laughter, “ we will all understand that you are opposed to 
the whole move.” 

Having thus arranged business for the morrow to theif satisfac- 
tion, these astute personages, who, like their party generally in 
America, at that period, seemed to have acted on an entirely 
false estimate of the intelligence and spirit of the common people, 
now rose and retired to their respective lodgings, inwardly chuck¬ 
ling at their sagacity, in being able to concoct what they believed 
would prove a successful scheme of overreaching and putting 
down their opponents, and, at the same time, of establishing their 
own tottering authority on a basis which might bid defiance to all 
fulare attempts to overturn it. 

4 # 


42 


THE SANGEKS, 


CHAPTER IV. 


“ But here, at least, are arms unchalnec 
And souls that thraldom never staiaeo.” 


As soon as the company, described in the preceding chapter, had 
all retired from the room. Brush, bidding Bart to rake up the fire 
and go to bed, proceeded to lock all the outer doors of the house, 
muttering to himself as he did so, “ It can’t be as Chandler fears, 
I think, about this fellow’s going out to blab to-night; but as this 
will put an end to the possibillity of his doing it, I may as well 
make all fast, and then there will be no chance for blame for 
suffering him to remain in the room.” 

So saying, and putting the different keys in his pocket, he at 
once disappeared, on his way to his own apartment. When the 
sound of his retiring footsteps had ceased to be heard, Bart, who 
had lingered in the room, suddenly changed his sleepy, abject 
appearance for a prompt, decisive look and an erect attitude. 

“ Two ideas above a jackass! — two ideas above a jackass, 
eh ? ” he said, and slowly repeated, as with flashing eyes he 
nodded significantly in the direction his master had taken. “ You 
may yet find out. Squire Brush, that my ears aiht sich a disput 
sight longer than yourn, arter all.” 

With this he blew out the last remaining light, and groped his 
way to his own humble sleeping-room, in the low attic story of 
the back kitchen. Here, however, he manifested no disposition 
to go to bed, but sitting down upon the side of his miserable pallet, 
he remained motionless and silent for fifteen or twenty minutes, 
when he began to soliloquize: “ Jackass ! — sleepy devil! — not 
wit enough to see what they are at in six weeks, eh ? Barty 
Burt, you are one of small fishes, it is true; but, for all that, you 
needn’t be walloped about at this rate, and bamboozled, and 
swallowed entirely up by the big ones of this court-and-king party. 
You know enough to take care of yourself; yes, and at the same 
time, you can l^ doing something towards paying these gentry 
for the beautiful compliments you have had from them to-night, 
and at other times. The fact is, Bart, you are a rebel now — 
honestly one of them — you feel it in you, and you may as well 
let it out. So here goes for their meeting, if it is to be found, if 
I am hanged for it.” 






OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


43 


Having, in this whimsical manner, made a sort of manifesto of 
his principles and intentions, as if to give them, with himself, a 
more fixed and definite character, he now rose, buttoned up his 
jacket, carefully raised the window of his room, let himself down 
to the roof of a shed beneath it, and from that descended to the 
ground, with the easy and rapid motions of a squirrel engaged in 
nut-gathering. Here he cast a furtive glance around him, and 
paused some moments, in apparent hesitation, respecting the 
course to be taken to find those of whom he was in quest. Soon, 
however, appearing to come to a determination, he struck out 
into the main street, and, with a quick step, proceeded on, per¬ 
haps a furlong, when he suddenly stopped short, and exclaimed, 
“ Hold up, Bart. What did that sly judge say about vsearching 
in folks’ sleighs, for — what was that word now ? — But never 
mind, it meant guns. And what did the sheriff say about a dozen 
flint-and-steel men having come.? Put that and that together 
now, Bart, and see if it don’t mean that the only guns brought intc 
town to-night are packed away in the straw, in the bottom of the 
sleighs of the court party understrappers .? Let’s go and mouse 
round their stopping-place a little, Bart. Perhaps you’ll get more 
news to carry to the rebels,” he added, turning round and making 
towards the tavern at which those in the interests of the loyalists 
were known generally to pufup. 

On reaching the tavern, and finding all there still and dark, he 
proceeded directly to the barn shed, and commenced a search, 
which was soon rewarded by finding, in the different sleighs 
about the place, twelve muskets, carefully concealed in hay or 
blankets. With a low chuckle of delight at his discovery, I3art 
took as many as he could conveniently carry at one load, and, 
going with them into the barn, thrust them one by one into the 
hay mow, under the girts and beams, so as effectually to conceal 
them. He then returned for others, and continued his employ¬ 
ment till the whole were thus disposed of; when he left the place, 
and resumed his walk to the northerly end of the village. After 
pursuing his way through the street, and some distance down the 
road beyond the village, he paused against a low, long log-house, 
standing endwise to the road. This house was occupied by a 
middle-aged, single man, known by the name of Tom Dunning, 
though often called Differ Dunning, and sometimes Der Differ, 
on account of his frequent use of these terms as prefixes to 
his words and sentences, arising from' a natural impediment of 
speech. He was a hunter by profession, and passed most of his 
time in the woods, or round the Connecticut in catching salmor4 


44 


THE RANGERS, 


which, at that period, were found in the river in considerable 
numbers, as far up as Bellows Falls. Though he mingled but 
little in society, yet he was known to be well informed respecting 
all the public movements of the times; and it was also believed 
that he had enrolled himself among the far-famed band of Green 
Mountain Boys, and often joined them in their operations against 
the Yorkers, on the other side of the mountains. Very little, 
however, was known about the man, except that he was a shrewd, 
resolute fellow, extremely eccentric, and perfectly impenetrable 
to all but the few in whom he confided. 

Bart, from some remark he had overheard in the street, in the ear¬ 
ly part of the evening, had been led to conclude that the company 
he now sought were assembled at this house. And though he 
was personally unacquainted with the owner, and knew nothing 
of his principles, yet he was resolved to enter and trust to luck 
to make his introduction, if the company were present, and, if 
not, to rely on his own wit to discover whether it were safe to 
unfold his errand. 

As he was approaching the house, Dunning hastily emerged 
from the door, and, advancing with a quick step, confronted him 
in the path with an air which seemed to imply an expectation 
that his business would be at once announced. Bart, who was 
not to be discomposed by any thing of this kind, manifested no 
hurry to name his errand, and seemed to prefer that the other 
should be the first to break the silence. 

“ Ditter — seems to me I have seen you somewhere } ” at length 
said Dunning, inquiringly. 

“ Very likely. I have often been there,” replied Bart, with 
the utmost gravity. 

“ Ditter— devil you have ! And what did you — der — ditter 
— find there, my foxy young friend ” 

“ Nothing that I was looking for.” 

“ Der — what was that.? ” 

“ The meeting.” - 

“ Der — what meeting ? ” 

“ The one I’d like to go to, may be.” 

“You are a bright pup; but — der — don’t spit this way; it 
might be der — ditter— dangerous business to me ; for you must 
have been eating razors to-night.” 

“ No, I haven’t; don’t love ’em. But you haven’t yet told 
me where the meeting is r ” 

“Ditter — look here, my little chap,” said Dunning, getting im¬ 
patient and vexed that he could not decide whether the other was 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


45 


a knave simpleton, or neither — “ ditter — look here; — der — 
don’t'your folks want you ? Hadn’t you better run along now ? ” 

“ Reckon I shall, when you tell me where to go and not run 
against snags.” 

“ Bitter well, der go back the way 3^011 come, about ditter as 
far again as half way; der then, ditter turn to the ditter right, 
then to the ditter left, then der—ditter — ditter — ditter — go 
a^ong ! you’ll get there before I can tell you.” 

“ In no sort of hurry; will wait till you get your mouth off; 
may be it will shoot near the mark, arter all.” 

“ Bitter, dog, my cat, if I — der — don’t begin to believe you are 
considerable of a critter ; and I’ve half a mind to risk you a 
piece ; so come into the house, and, der — let me take a squint at 
your phiz in the light.” 

Taking no exceptions to the character of the invitation, Bart 
now followed the other into the house, and, sitting down on a 
bench by the fire, began very unconcernedly to whistle, on a 
low key, the tune of Yankee Boodle, which was then just begin¬ 
ning to be considered a patriotic air. Banning, in the mean time, 
taking a seat in the opposite corner, commenced his proposed 
scrutiny, which he continued, with one eye partly closed, and 
with a certain dubious expression of countenance, for some mo¬ 
ments, when he observed, 

“ You are a ditter queer chicken, that’s a fact. But I der find, 
now that I know you, as the ditter divil did his pigs, by sight; I 
know also the sort of folks you have been living amongst lately ; 
and der knowing all that, it’s reasonable that I should be a snuffing 
a little for the ditter smell of brimstone. So now, if you are a 
court party tory, and come here for mischief, you’ve got into a 
place that will ditter prove too hot for you ; but if, as I rather 
think, you are, or der want to be, something better, and can let 
us into the shape and fix of matters and things over there at ditter 
head-quarters, you may be the chap we would like to see. Bitter 
speak out therefore, like a man, and no more of your ditter 
squizzling.” 

After a few more evasive remarks, in which he succeeded in 
drawing out the other more fully, and causing him the more com¬ 
pletely to commit himself, Bart threw aside all bantering, and 
proceeded to relate all his discoveries relative to the contemplated 
movement of the court party. 

“ Bitter devils and dumplings !” exclaimed the hunter, as, with 
eyes sparkling with excitement, he sprang to his feet, as the 
other finished his recital. “ This must be made known directly. 


46 


THE RANGERS, 


Come—der follow me, and I’ll take you to the company you 
ditter said you wished to see.” 

So saying, he immediately led the way through a dark entry to 
a room in the rear of the house, which the two now entered ; 
when Bart found himself in a company of nearly twenty grave 
and stern-looking men, deliberating in a regularly organized 
meeting. 

“ Ditter here. Captain Wright,” eagerly commenced Dunning, 
as he entered, addressing the chairman, a prompt, fine-looking 
man, and the leading whig of the village ; “ here is one,” he 
continued, pointing to Bart, “ one who brings ditter news that-” 

“ Esquire Knowlton, of Townsend, has the floor now,” said 
the chairman, interrupting the speaker, and directing his attention 
to a middle-aged man of a gentlemanly, intelligent appearance, 
who was standing on one side of the room, having suspended tlije 
remarks he was making at the entrance of Dunning and his com¬ 
panion. 

“ As I was remarking, Mr. Chairman,” now resumed the gen¬ 
tleman who had been thus interrupted in his speech, “ the tory 
party, acting under various disguises, have been, for several 
months past, secretly using every means within their reach to 
strengthen their unrighteous rule in this already sadly oppressed 
section of the country. They aim to bring the people into a state 
of bondage and slavery. When no cash is stirring, with which 
debts can be paid, they purposely multiply suits, seize property, 
which they well know can never be redeemed, and take it into 
their hands, that they may make the people dependent on them, 
and subservient to their party purposes. And just so far as they 
find themselves strengthened by these and other disguised move¬ 
ments, so far they betray their intention to curtail all freedom of 
opinion, and to overawe us by open acts of oppression. Here, 
one man has been thrown into prison on the charge of high trea¬ 
son ; when all they proved against him was the remark, that if 
the king had signed the Quebec bill, he had broken his corona¬ 
tion oath. There, another, a poor harmless recluse, as I have 
ever supposed him, is dragged from his hut in the mountains, 
and imprisoned to await his trial for an alleged murder, com¬ 
mitted long ago, and in another jurisdiction; when his only 
crime, with his prosecutors, probably, is his bold denunciations of 
their tyranny, unless, as some suspect, even a baser motive actu¬ 
ates them. They even proclaim, that all who dare question the 
king’s right to tax us without our consent, are guilty of high trea¬ 
son, and worthy of death ! For myself, I seek not the suspension 


OE THE Tory’s daughter. 


47 


of this court^at this time, on account of the questionable jurisdic¬ 
tion of New York merely, but because the court, itself bitterly 
tory in all its branches, is sustained by a colony which refuses to 
adopt the resolves of the Continental Congress, and thereby con¬ 
tinues to force upon us the royal authority, which our brethren of 
the other colonies have almost every where put down, and which 
in our case. Heaven knows, is not the least deserving the fate it 
has met elsewhere. And the question, then, now comes home 
to us. Shall we tolerate it any longer ? The hearts of the people, 
though their tongues may often be awed into silence — the hearts 
of the people are ready to respond their indignant no ! And I, for 
one, am ready to join in the cry, and stepping into the first rank 
of the opposers of arbitrary power, breast the storm in discharg¬ 
ing my duty to my country.” 

“ Amen ! ” was the deep and general response of the com- 
pany. 

“ Mr. Dunning will now be heard,” said the chairman, motion¬ 
ing to the former to come forward. 

“ Ditter well. Captain — der — ditter Mr. Moderator, I mean. 
I, being on the watch against ditter interlopers, you know, have 
just picked up an odd coon, here, who ditter seems to have ears 
in one place and tongue in another; and his story is a ditter loud 
one. But let him tell it in his own way. So now, Barty Burt,” 
he continued, going up to the other, who stood by The fire, kicking 
the fore-stick with his usual air of indifference ; “ come forward, 
and tell the meeting all you have der seen and heard, in the 
ditter camp of the Philistines.” 

Bart, then, mostly in the way of answers to a series of rapid 
questions, put by the chairman, who seemed to know him, and 
understand the best way of drawing him out, — Bart then related 
his discoveries to his astonished and indignant auditors, giving 
such imitations of the manner of each of the company, whose 
words he was repeating, as not only showed their meaning in its 
full force, but at once convinced all present of the truth of his 
story. 

No sooner had Bart closed, than a half dozen of the company 
sprang to their feet, in their eagerness to express their indigna¬ 
tion and abhorrence of the bloody plot, which their opponents 
under the garb of peace and fair promises, had, it was now evi¬ 
dent, been hatching against them. 

“ Order, gentlemen ! ” cried the chairman : “ I don’t wonder 
you all want to denounce the detestable and cowardly conduct 
of the tyrants. But one only can be heard at a time, and Mr, 


48 


THE RANGERS, 


French, I rather think, was fairly up first, and he will therefore 
proceed.” 

While all others, on hearing this remark of the chairman, 
resumed their seats, the person thus named, as privileged to 
speak first, remained standing. He was a young man, of about 
twenty-two, of a ready, animated appearance, while every look 
and motion of his ardent countenance and restless muscles pro¬ 
claimed him to be of tiie most sanguine temperament and enthu¬ 
siastic feelings. An almost unnatural excitement was sparkling 
in his kindling eyes, and a sort of wild, fitful, sad, and prophetic 
air characterized his whole appearance as he began. 

“ It has come at last, then ! I knew it was coming. I have 
felt it for months ; waking and sleeping, I have felt it. In my 
dreams I have seen blood in the skies, and heard sounds of battle 
in the air and earth. Dreams of themselves, I know, are gener¬ 
ally without sign or significance ; but when the spirit of a dream 
remains on the mind through the waking hours, as it has on 
mine, I know it has a meaning. Something has been hurrying 
me to be ready for the great event. I could not help coming 
here to-night. I cannot help being here to-morrow. The event 
and the time are at hand ! I see it now — resistance, and battle, 
and blood ! Let it come ! the victims are ready ; and their blood, 
poured out on the wood on the altar of liberty, will bring down 
fire from heaven to consume the oppressors ! ” 

There was a short silence among the company, who seemed to 
pause, in surprise and awe, at the strange words and manner of 
the young man, which evidently made an impression on his hear¬ 
ers at the time, and which were afterwards remembered, and 
often repeated, at the fireside, in recounting his untimely fate.” 

“ Mr. Fletcher,” at length observed the chairman, breaking 
the silence — “ Mr. Fletcher, of Newfane, is next entitled to 
speak, I believe.” 

“ I rose, Mr. Chairman,” said the latter, a fine specimen of the 
hardy, resolute, and intelligent yeoman of the times — “I rose but 
to ask whether the news just received can be relied on : “ can it 
be, that Judge Chandler, after his pledge to 'US at Chester, would 
be guilty of conduct reflecting so deeply on his character as a 
man ? ” 

“ I am not wholly unprepared to believe the story myself,” 
replied the chairman ; “ our young friend here may have his pe¬ 
culiarities ; but I consider him a thousand times more honest .and 
honorable, than some of those whose sly hints and treacherous 
conduct he has so well described.” 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


49 


“ Ditter, look here, Mr. IModerator,” interposed Dunning. “ 1 
was once, ditter travelling, in the Bay State, with a friend, when 
we came across a meeting-house with eight sides, and my friend 
asked me what order of architecture I called it. Ditter well, I 
was fairly treed, and couldn’t tell. But I should be able to tell 
now. I should ditter call it the Chandler order.” 

A desultory but animated debate now arose. Various methods 
of accomplishing what appeared to bo the settled determination of 
all — that of preventing the sitting of the court — were suggested. 
Some proposed to dismantle or tear down the Court House ; others 
were for arming the people, seizing the building, and bidding 
open defiance to their opponents. At this stage of the delibera¬ 
tions, Colonel Carpenter, whose character had secured him great 
influence, rose, and requested to be heard. 

“ From the gathering signs of the times,” said he, “we have 
good reason to believe that the smouldering fires of liberty will 
soon burst forth into open revolution throughout these oppressed 
and insulted colonies. Our movements here may lead to the 
opening scene of the great drama; and we must give our foes 
no advantages by our imprudence. If we are the first to appear 
in arms, it may weaken our cause, while it strengthens theirs. 
Let them be the first to do this — let us place them in the wrong, 
and theg, if they have recourse to violence and bloodshed, we 
will act; and no fear but the people will find means to arm them¬ 
selves. Let us, therefore, go into the Court House to-morro\/, in 
a body, but without a single offensive implement, and resist 
peacefully, but firmly ; and then, if they dare make a martyr', 
his blood will do more for our cause than would now a regiment 
of rifles.” 

Although this prudent and far-sighted proposal was for a while 
opposed, by the more ardent and unthinking part of the company, 
yet it was at length adopted by the whole ; and having made ar¬ 
rangements to carry it into effect, the meeting broke up, and all 
retired to their respective lodgings. 


50 


THE RAISGERS, 


CHAPTER V. 


Thou ever strong upon tJie strongest side.” 


Although many were the anxious consultations, and deep plot¬ 
tings, among the belligerent parties within doors, during the fora 
part of the memorable 13 th of March, yet it was not till the after¬ 
noon of that day had considerably advanced, that any indications 
of the events which followed became observable in the streets of 
Westminster. About this time, one of the doors of Crean Brush’s 
guest-filled mansion suddenly flew open, and the crouched and 
cringing form of our humble friend Barty Burt, hotly pursued 
by his recent employer with uplifted cane, was seen coming 
down the steps of the entrance, in flying leaps, to the ground. 

“ There, you infernal booby ! please consider this caning 
and kicking as a farewell to my house and employ forever! ” ex¬ 
claimed the enraged master, standing in the door-way, and look¬ 
ing down with ineffable scorn upon the prostrate person of the 
ejected Bart, as he lay sprawled out upon the spot where he 
landed, without manifesting any disposition to rise. 

“ I should like to know what I’ve done criminaj, squire } ” 
responded the latter, looking back over his shoulder at the other, 
with a doleful grimace. 

“ What have you done ? ” sharply retorted Brush. “ Why, 
you impertinent puppy, you have done every thing wrong, and 
nothing right, ever since you got your lubberly carcass out of 
bed, at the fine time of eight o’clock this morning! and now, to 
crown all, in clearing off the table, you must go, with your load 
of meats and half-filled gravy dishes, through the parlor, where 
you had no business to go, and there, like a blundering jackass, 
as you are, you must fall down and ruin the best carpet in the 
house ! Pve had quite enough of you, sir: so up with you there, 
and clear out, you vagabond ! ” 

“ Well, I ’spose I know what you want,” muttered Bart, by 
way of reply to this tirade — “ you want to accuse, and drive me 
away, so you won’t have to pay me the two crowns you owe me 
for work, and other things.” 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


51 


“ I don’t owe you half that sum, you lying lout,” returned 
Brush, fiercely. “ But to get rid of such a pest, and prevent 
your going round town with that lie in your mouth, I’ll give you 
all you ask ; and there they are ! ” he continued, pulling out and 
disdainfully tossing the coins down at the other’s feet. “ Your 
dirty rags, if you have any in the house, shall be thrown out to 
you; and then, if you aint off, I’ll set the dogs on ye.” 

With this, and an expressive slam of the door behind him, the 
secretary returned into the house ; and in a few moments, the 
sash of a garret window was thrown up, and a pair of shoes, a 
pair of old summer pantaloons, a spare coarse shirt, and pair of 
stockings, were successively flung down into the yard, near where 
the owner was still lying, by the hand of a grinning and blushing 
servant maid, while her dainty-fingered master stood by, direct¬ 
ing the operation. 

“ Well, Bart,” now soon began to mutter this singular being, in 
his usual manner of addressing himself as a second person, when 
alone —“ well, Bart, your plan of getting driv away has worked 
to a shaving. You’ve got your pay, too, jest in the way you cal¬ 
culated would fetch it; yes, ail your honest pay, and one crown 
more ; but you charged that, you know, when you told him two 
crowns, as damage for the kick and cane lick you got. So that’s 
settled. And as to the other accounts against him, and the rest 
of ’em there, you’ll be in a way to square all, fore long, guess ; 
for you will be your own rebel, now, Bart, you know.” 

While thus communing with himself, he had slowly, and with 
many winces of affected pain, gathered up his limbs, risen on to 
his feet, pocketed his two crowns, and collected and tied up his 
clothes. And he was now, with a grieved look, as if sorrowing 
for the loss of his home, looking back to the house, where several 
curious, half-laughing, half-pitying countenances were seen peer¬ 
ing through the windows to witness his departure. He then 
looked hesitatingly abroad, one way and then the other, with the 
sad and despairing air of one who feels there is no place in the 
wide world where he can find a friendly shelter. After this, 
with a wince and groan at every step, he slowly hobbled off up 
the street, losing his lameness, and converting his groans into 
snickers of low, exulting laughter, as soon as he was out of eye¬ 
shot of the company he had left behind him. 

“ Kinder’pears to me, Bart,” he at length said, resuming his 
soliloquy, as he glanced keenly at the tavern, which was the 
scene of his last night’s exploit, and which he was now passing — 

’pears to me, there’s a good many heads rather close together, 


53 


THE RANGERS, 


in spots, round that tory nest over yonder. They act as if they 
were in a sort of stew about something. I wonder if they lost 
their guns last night, or any thing, that puts them in such a 
pucker,” he continued, with a chuckle. “ But suppose, Bart, as 
going this way is only a sham, suppose we now haul up here, 
and edge over there among ’em a little, to learn what they are 
up to, before you go to join the company at the Court House.” 

On reaching the yard of the tavern, Bart found that the com¬ 
pany, numbering perhaps twenty in all, had broken from the 
separate groups in which they had been conversing, and had 
now gathered round one man, who, having just come out of the 
tavern, appeared to be communicating to the crowd something 
that obviously produced considerable sensation. This person 
was a man of the ordinary size, of fair complexion, light eyes, 
and an unsettled and vacillating countenance, rendered the more 
strikingly so, perhaps, by tbe quick, eager, and restless motions 
and manner by winch his whole appearance was characterized. 
Bart soon contrived to work his way into this circle, till he gained 
a position from which he could hear what was said. 

“ You may rely on what I have told you,” said the speaker, as 
Bart came within hearing ; “ for I have just had it from the 
sheriff and lawyer Stearns. The rebels have been in possession 
of the Court House about an hour, posted sentinels at all the 
doors, and openly declare, that the judges and officers shall never 
enter to hold another court. Nobody dreamed of their daring 
on such a bold step, or we should have been before them in 
taking possession of the house, even with the force we had on 
the ground. But, thinking it best to go strong-handed, the judges 
concluded they would not go in to open the court till enough 
of friends should arrive to put down all opposition at a blow. 
The rebels think now, doubtless, that they have got an advantage 
which they will be able to maintain. But they will find them¬ 
selves a little mistaken, I fancy; for Patterson says he has now 
got -them in just the spot he wanted. This act both he and 
Stearns decide to be overt treason, which will justify him in 
taking the course he intends, unless they yield and scatter, on 
tbe first summons. But as they won’t do that, and our forces will 
shortly be here, you can all guess what we shall now soon see 
follow,” he added, with a significant wink. 

‘‘ Then why not be getting out our guns at once ? ” asked 
one of the company. 

“ No,” resumed the speaker; “ the plan is to leave that till 
the last thing before we march upon them, lest the rebels « 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


53 


should take alarm, and go and arm themselves, and we thus 
thwart our own intention of taking them by surprise. You, 
however, can be kinder carelessly looking up clubs for such as 
may have no arms, and a few axes and crowbars for breaking 
into the Court House, if that should be necessary. But, as 1 said, 
let the guns remain hid in the sleighs till you have orders to take 
them out. For it is not exactly settled yet whether we shall 
march upon them as soon as our reenforcements arrive, and 
besiege them in the house, or coax them out, and so get pos¬ 
session ourselves. But, at any rate, you will have work on hand 
soon; and if we don’t see fun before to-morrow morning, my 
name aint David Redding. But come, let’s all adjourn to the 
bar-room, and take a drop to warm us up a little.” 

Leaving Redding to his despicable task of endeavoring, in 
compliance with the directions of those whose base tool he was, 
to inflame the company he had collected, and work up their 
feelings to such a pitch of enmity and recklessness as should 
prepare them to imbrue their hands in the blood of their neigh¬ 
bors and countrymen, we will now proceed to note the conduct 
of more important personages in the events of the day. 

While the scene above described was transpiring, Patterson, 
Gale, Stearns, and one or two other tory leaders, who had been 
consulting at this tavern, and making their arrangements for 
active movements, left the house, and, with hasty steps, took their 
way to the mansion of the haughty secretary, which, by his 
special invitation, at this crisis, was made the permanent quarters 
of the judges and principal officers of the court, as well as of his 
numerous guests. 

“ Upon the whole, perhaps you are right, Stearns,” said Pat¬ 
terson, as they were about to enter the house. “We will start 
oft' Chandler to the Court House to make one of his smooth 
speeches, and play Sir Plausible with the rebel rascals, as agreed 
on last night, and though he should have done it before, yet he 
may, even now, succeed in battering them to quit the house 
long enough for us to get possession; if not, we will take the 
other course.” 

In a few moments after these worthies had disappeared within 
the house, the door was again opened, and Chief Justice Chandler, 
the man to whose singularly compounded character, made up 
of timidity, selfishness, vanity, thirst of power, kindness, and 
duplicity, or rather the conduct that flowed from it, may be 
mainly attributed the bloody tragedy that ensued, now made his 
appearance in the street. He wore a powdered wig, according 


54 


THE RANGERS, 


to the fashion of the times among men of his official station, 
and his whole toilet had evidently been made with much atten¬ 
tion. Carelessly flirting a light cane in his hand, and assuming 
an air of easy unconcern, he leisurely took his way along the 
street, towards the Court House, bowing low, and blandly smiling 
to every one he met, and often even crossing to the opposite 
side of the street to exchange salutations with the passers-by; 
to each of whom, whatever his party or station, he was sure 
to say something complimentary, and aimed with no little sa¬ 
gacity to reach the peculiar feelings and interests of the person 
addressed. 

“ This is Mr. French, I believe,” he said, turning out of his 
course to speak to the young man introduced in the last chapter, 
who, with the same restless, anxious look he then wore, was 
unobservantly hurrying by the other, on his way to the Court 
House. 

“ Yes, yes, sir,” replied French, slightly checking his speed, 
and looking back, with a half-surprised, half-vacant expression. 

“ Ay, I was sure I knew you,” rejoined the judge. “ How are 
the times with you, Mr. French? You will pardon my freedom, 
sir, but the great interest I take in the success of our enterprising 

and intelligent young men like yourself- But no matter now. 

I see you are in haste. I will not detain you, sir. A very good 
day to you, Mr. French.” 

“ Well, upon my word, now, here is my friend Colonel Car¬ 
penter ! ” he again exclaimed, as, turning from the person he 
had just saluted with such poor success, his quick and wary eye 
caught sight of the gentleman thus addressed coming up behind 
him. “Most happy to fall in with you, colonel,” he continued, 
grasping and warmly shaking the hand of the other. “ How are 
your family, sir ? Shall I confess it, colonel ? I have really 
sometimes greatly envied you.” 

“ Why so, sir ? ” asked Carpenter, with a little coolness. 

“ Envied you your well-deserved appellation — that of Friend 
of the People^ as they call you,” replied the judge. 

“ The people need a friend at this crisis, I think, sir,” 
responded the unbought yeoman, with cold dignity. 

“ If there is one title that I should covet above all others,” 
resumed the judge, without appearing to notice the drift of the 
other’s remark, “ it would be the one I have named. What can 
be a more truly honorable distinction ? I have often regretted 
being so trammelled by my station on the bench, as to prevent 
me from acting as I would otherwise like to do. But a judge, 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


55 


you know, colonel, in party times, must not act openly on any 
particular side.” 

“ He had better do that, however, than act secretly on all sides,” 
returned the other, with biting significance. 

“ O, doubtless, doubtless, sir,” rejoined the judge, with a 
forced laugh, but with the air of one perfectly unsuspicious of 
any intended personalities. “Yes, indeed. But, ah!” he con¬ 
tinued, slightly motioning towards the Court House, against 
which they had now arrived. “ What have we here } A public 
meeting ? ” 

“ Quite possible. At all events I think of going in myself,’' 
said Carpenter, quietly turning from the other into the Court 
House yard, but soon pausing a little, though without looking 
round, to hear the remarks which the other seemed intent on 
making. 

“ Indeed ! Why, I had not heard of it, else I should have been 
pleased to have dropped in. I came out, be sure, only for a 
little exercise, but-” 

Here he paused, in expectation that the other would speak ; but 
finding himself disappointed, and left alone in the street, he re¬ 
sumed his walk, while his now unguarded countenance very plainly 
showed the disquiet he felt at the rebuffs he had received in his 
attempts to conciliate Colonel Carpenter, and obtain from him an 
invitation to go into the meeting, which, in reality, it was his only 
object in coming out to attend. 

While digesting his mortification, and occupied in conjecturing 
how he could have become an object of suspicion among the 
opponents of the court party, as every thing now seemed to indi¬ 
cate, his attention was again arrested by the sounds of approach¬ 
ing footsteps; and, looking up, his eyes encountered the sarcastic 
countenance of Tom Dunning, who, coming from an Opposite 
direction, was also on his way to join the company at the Court 
House. 

“ Ah, Mr. Dunning! ” exclaimed the judge, starting from his 
reverie and downcast attitude, while his face instantly brightened 
into smiles summoned for the occasion ; “ right glad to meet you, 
sir. I have been thinking I must engage some such expert and 
lucky sportsman, as they say you are, to catch and send me up 
a fresh salmon, occasionally. I suppose your never-failing spear 
will be put in requisition again, when the spring opens; will it 
not .^ ” 

“ Der — yes, your worship, unless I turn my attention to th6 
catching —ditter — eels, or other slippery varments,” returned the 



THE RANGERS, 


56 • 


hunter, with a sly, significant twinkling of his eyes, as he brushed 
by the rebuked cajoler, and pushed on without waiting for a 
reply. 

The judge did not pursue his walk much farther; but now, soon 
facing about, began, with a quickened step and a look of increas¬ 
ing uneasiness, to retrace his way to his quarters. 

While these little incidents were occurring in the streets, about 
one hundred sturdy and determined men had collected within the 
walls of the Court House. As the construction of this building 
was somewhat peculiar, for one designed for such purposes, it 
may be necessary, for a clear understanding of the descriptions 
which follow, to say a few words respecting its interior arrange¬ 
ments. The court-room was in the upper story, which was all 
occupied as such, except the east and south corners, that had been 
partitioned off for sleeping apartments. In the lower story, there 
was a wide passage running through the middle of the building, 
with doors at both ends ; while the stairs leading up into the court 
room faced the principal entrance, on the north-east side of the 
house. After passing by the stairs, there was a small passage 
leading from the large one, at right angles, and running back 
between prison-rooms, whose doors opened into it. The part of 
this lower story, on the opposite side of the main passage, con¬ 
sisted also of two rooms, with doors opening into it, and an entry, 
or short passage, leading out into the street. One of these rooms 
was used as a common, or bar-room, and the other as a sort of 
parlor, being both occupied by the jailer and his family. 

Although there had been, for many weeks, a growing disposi¬ 
tion among the party here assembled to prevent the session of a 
court avowedly acting under royal authority, and spurning all the 
recommendations of Congress, yet there had been no settled inten¬ 
tion among them to resort to any other than the peaceful meas¬ 
ures of petition and remonstrance, which they believed would be 
sufficient to effect the desired result. It had been decided, there¬ 
fore, that the court should be permitted to come together; when 
such representations and arguments were to be laid before them, 
as could not fail, it was supposed, to convince any reasonable men 
of the wisdom of listening to the voice of the people. But when, 
on the preceding evening, it was discovered, in the way before 
related, and from other sources, that the people had been duped 
by the duplicity of Chandler, and that it was the secret purpose 
of the court, in defiance of all pledges to the contrary, to hold a 
full session, under the protection of an armed force, the hitherto 
modest and quiet spirit of patriotism was at once aroused among 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


57 


this resolute little band of revolutionists, and they came to the 
hold determination, as we have before seen, of seizing the Court 
House in advance of their opponents, and holding it till their 
remonstrances should be heard and heeded. 

This object, so far as respected the possession of the building, 
being now obtained, the company proceeded to organize and 
make arrangements for maintaining their advantage through the 
night. Their possession, however, was not destined to remain 
long undisputed. In a short time after they had begun to act, 
their new recruit, Barty Burt, who could not forego his desire of 
remaining among the tories (where we left him acting the un¬ 
suspected spy on their movements) till they should look for their 
guns, that he might have the pleasure of witnessing their discom¬ 
fiture on discovering their loss, now arrived with news, that the 
latter, as soon as they made the discovery that their arms had 
been abstracted, were thrown into the greatest commotion ; and 
that under the direction of Patterson and Gale, both foaming with 
rage, they had hastily collected all the offensive implements they 
could find, with the avowed determination of making an immedi 
ate assault on their opponents at the Court House. But notwith¬ 
standing this startling intelligence, no one manifested the least 
disposition of quitting his post. And although there was not a 
weapon of defence, beyond a cane, in the whole company, yet 
they seemed none the less inclined to maintain their position in 
consequence of the threatening aspect which the affair was be¬ 
ginning to assume ; but resolving, by acclamation, to keep pos¬ 
session of the house till compelled by force of arms to relinquish 
it, they placed a few strong and resolute men as guards at every 
door, and quietly awaited the result. And they were not kept 
long in suspense. In a short time, Patterson and his posse, armed 
with several old muskets, swords, pistols, and clubs, made their 
appearance, and, with many hostile manifestations, came rushing 
up within a few yards of the door. Commanding a halt, the 
sheriff then, in a loud and arrogant tone, summoned the company 
within to come forth and disperse. No voice, however, was heard 
to respond to the summons. Gale, the clerk, then proceeded, 
upon the intimation of the former, to read the king’s proclamation 
to the outward walls of the house, or the supposed listeners within, 
with great form and solemnity. 

“Ditter — dickins ! ” exclaimed Tom Dunning, after listening 
a moment to the reading of the riot act, or proclamation, as it was 
usually called, as, with several others, he stood just within the 


58 


THE RANGERS, 


entrance. “ Now I wonder if they expect to rout a body of Green 
Mountain Boys with that sort of—ditter — ammunition ? ” 

“ There ! ” fiercely cried Patterson, as the reader concluded 

his task. “ There, you d-d rascals, now disperse, or, by 

Heaven, I will blow a lane through ye ! ” 

“ Only — ditter — hear that! ” again remaked the hunter, con¬ 
temptuously, at the menace and profanity of the haughty officer. 
“ Natural enough, though, mayhap, for a bag of wind to blow, if 
it does any thing. He is rather smart at — der — swearing, too, 
I think. But even at that, I guess he would have to haul in his 
horns a little, if old Ethan Allen was here, as I wish he was, to 
let otf a few blasts of his — ditter — damnations at him.” 

Captain Wright, after a brief consultation with the other leaders, 
now coming down from the court-room, opened the door, (Dun¬ 
ning and another strong-armed man having hold of it to guard 
against a rush,) and addressed the besiegers. 

“ Why is all this, gentlemen ? ” he said, in a respectful, but 
firm manner. “ Are you come here for war ? We are here for 
no such purpose, ourselves. We came with none other than 
peaceful intentions. And so long as we can say that, and say, 
also, above all, that we have come together with the approbation 
of the chief judge of your court, who has promised us a fair 
hearing of our grievances ; and so long as, in direct violation 
of that judge’s pledge to us, you appear here in arms, to intimi¬ 
date us, let me assure you, we shall not disperse under your 
threats. We, however, will permit you to come in, if you will 
lay aside your arms; or we will hold a parley with you as you 
are.” 

“ D-n your parley! ” exclaimed Gale, furiously. “ D-n 

the parley with such d-d rascals as you are ! I will hold no 

parley with such d-d rascals, but by this ! ” he added, draw¬ 

ing a pistol, and brandishing it towards his opponents. 

“ Ay! ay! ” cried Redding, who, next to the sheriff and 
clerk, appeared to be the most violent and officious among the 
assailants: “ talk about being here without arms,and for peace, do 
ye ? when you have stolen a dozen of our guns, and have now 
got them in there among you. Pretty fellows, to talk about par¬ 
ley .? We will give you a parley that will send you all to hell 
before morning! ” 

Wright here began a denial of the charge made by the last 
speaker; when he was interrupted by Dunning, who, jogging him. 
said, in an undertone, — 






OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


69 


“ Let ’em — der—believe it. They are such — ditter •— cowards, 
that the idea of a dozen guns among us will make ’em more 
mannerly than all the preaching you could — ditter — do in a 
month.” 

Concluding to profit by this suggestion of the sagacious hunter, 
Wright now retired within doors, followed by the hisses, curses, 
and all manner of abusive epithets, of the assailants. 

The besiegers, now finding that the king’s proclamation, on 
whose potency for quelling the risings of the rebellious colonists, 
the tory authorities, at the commencement of the revolution, 
seemed to have greatly counted, did not annihilate their oppo¬ 
nents, and, not seeing fit to attempt to carry their threats into 
execution at present, they soon drew off a short distance, and 
apparently held a consultation. Whilo they were thus occupied, 
a sma'il deputation was sent out to them from the Court House, 
with another offer to hold a conference. But their proposals 
being received with fresh insults and abuse, they returned to the 
house; while Patterson and his forces, evidently fearing to 
venture an attack, with their present strength, on the other party, 
whom they suspected to be armed with the lost guns, now moved 
off to head-quarters, to report progress, and wait for the expected 
reenforcement, to hasten whose arrival, expresses had been de¬ 
spatched several hours before. 

A short time after the disappearance of Patterson’s band. Judge 
Chandler unexpectedly came up to the Court House, wholly unat¬ 
tended, and being readily admitted, he at once ascended into the 
court-room, and entered the somewhat surprised, but unmoved 
assembly, bowing low to individuals on the right and left, as he 
passed on to an unoffered seat, with the gratified air of one, who, 
after many detentions, has the satisfaction of getting at length 
into the company of his friends. 

After a rather embarrassing pause, the judge rose, and made 
a short speech, which left his hearers but little the wiser respect¬ 
ing his real wishes and intentions, though he had much to say 
about his solicitude for the welfare of the people, and his anxiety 
that they should do nothing to injure their cause. After he was 
seated, Wright, Carpenter, and Knowlton, each in turn, addressed 
him, stating, in general terms, the views and wishes of their 
party, and reminding him of his pledge, that no arms should be 
brought by the officers of the court, the recent violation of which 
they hoped he would be able to explain. 

Upon this, the former rejoined, declaring with great assurance, 
and not a little to the surprise of many in the room, that the 


60 


THE RANGERS, 


arms complained of had been brought without his knowledge, 
and against his express wishes ; and he concluded by assuring 
his friends, as he said he was proud to believe he might safely 
call them, that he would go and immediately secure the arms in 
question ; so that the company might how retire, in full confi¬ 
dence that their petitions would obtain a fair hearing, when the 
court came together the next morning. The speaker then re¬ 
sumed his seat, and glanced persuasively around him for some 
tokens of assent or approbation. But the men, whom he had 
thus undertaken to wheedle, had been taught by experience to 
heed the caution so well recommended by the tuneful Burns, — 

“ Beware the tongue that’s smoothly hung,” — 

and a chilling silence was the only response that greeted him. 

“ You hear his honor’s remarks,” observed the chairman, 
at length breaking the ominous silence. “ Have you any propo¬ 
sitions to make before the judge retires.” 

Another long interval of deep silence ensued ; when Tom 
Dunning’s tall, sinewy form, and sharp, bronzed features, screwed 
up with an expression of sly mischief, was seen rising from a 
back seat in the room. 

“ Seeing no one else,” he said, “ seems — ditter — disposed to 
accept your invitation, Mr. Moderator, I don’t — ditter — know but 
I will make a small proposition on the occasion. Now, as I take 
it, we are to remain here to-night; and as we have now learned 
that the judge and the people here are the—ditter — best of friends, 
I would just move, Mr. Moderator, that his honor be — der — ditter 
— invited to take up lodgings with us in the Court House to-night; 
so that, if the enemy comes,” he added, imitating the manner of 
the judge, as described by Bart, “ he can assist us to — ditter — 
‘ temporize — temporize — till ’-” 

Here the hunter bobbed down into his seat, while explosive 
bursts of laughter rose from several parts of the room, and a low, 
half-smothered titter ran through the whole assembly, at this sly, but 
cutting allusion to the part last night taken by the double-dealing 
judge, who now sat before them, looking, for the moment, like a 
suddenly detected criminal. He, however, while the chairman 
was calling to order, recovered his command of countenance, and, 
by the time the tumult had subsided into the less noisy expres¬ 
sions of mirth, he was smiling as gayly as the rest, and affecting 
to consider the remarks of the stammering humorist as merely a 
pleasant joke. 

“ There is no cheating our friend Dunning out of his joke, I 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


61 


perceive,” he said, rising and taking up his hat; “ and, indeed, I 
don’t know that I can blame a hardy woodsman for laughing at tlie 
idea of one of our in-door and tender professional men, like myself, 
sleeping on floors and benches. I am afraid we deserve it for our 
effeminacy. Yes, yes, a good joke, truly ! and a good laughter- 
moving joke is an excellent thing to go to bed upon, they say,” 
he added, as with a merry, gleeful look, he bowed himself out 
of the assembly. 

No further comments were offered by any of the company 
upon the communications of this official double-dealer, after his 
departure ; for all seemed to think that the single shot of Dun¬ 
ning had rendered all further comments on his speech, and his 
motives in coming there to make it, entirely superfluous. And 
they therefore proceeded, as if nothing but an ordinary inter¬ 
ruption had occurred, to the business on which they were en¬ 
gaged when the judge came in — that of passing some fresh 
resolves expressive of their determination to hold the Court House 
in defiance of the threats of their opponents, and of their now 
settled purpose of no longer submitting, on any conditions, to the 
continuance of a court which had proved itself so corrupt and 
treacherous. After this, and making arrangements for the posting 
and relieving of guards at the doors for the night, a part of the 
company left the house to seek lodgings elsewhere, as the usual 
hour of rest had now arrived. 

When the nonplused and disconcerted Chandler left the Court 
House, he rapidly took his way back to his quarters, from which 
he had been started out by Patterson and Gale, to see if he 
might not be able to accomplish by fair words what they had 
failed to effect by foul. Although he had put the best possible 
face upon the mortifying occurrence he had just been compelled 
to meet, and had made, as he believed, a handsome exit from 
the company, yet he felt keenly conscious that he had not only 
utterly failed in the object of his visit, but that much of his late 
base conduct was known. He perceived this in the allusions of 
Dunning, the pith of which he had affected not to understand. 
He had seen it, he had felt it, in the significant and knowing 
glances that had been exchanged on every side around him, and 
especially in the bitter derisive laugh that had assailed his tingling 
ears. He had also been taught a new lesson in the interview! 
He had seen, in the firm manner and determined looks of those 
he had been confronting — he had seen that which told him of 
a spirit at work among the people, that the loyal party, with 
all their boasted strength, might not long be able to quell: He 
6 


62 


THE RANGERS, 


began now, with the instinctive sagacity of the true office-seeker, 
to perceive the possibility, perhaps probability, that the power 
of dispensing office and patronage was about to change hands; 
and he inwardly trembled for his own safety. He found 
himself, in short, in one of those straits, to which men of his 
character are not unfrequently reduced —that of being wholly at 
a loss to decide which side was most likely to become the strong¬ 
est. Could he have foreseen and decided this, his mind would 
have been comparatively at ease ; for he could have then trimmed 
his sails, so as to steer clear of the political breakers which 
he knew were somewhere ahead. Some course, however, he 
must decide upon; and after lamenting his inability to pierce the 
future, so far as to know which party w^as destined to prevail, 
and thus secure the important advantages that might be derived 
from shaping his present course accordingly, he at length re¬ 
solved to keep aloof, at present, from both parties, believing he 
had so adroitly managed thus far, that whichever side might 
triumph, he could put in a specious claim of having acted with it, 
in reality, from the first. 

And having now made up his mind to this course, he avoided 
meeting the tory leaders again ; and, seeking out a safe mes¬ 
senger, and sending him to tell them, that “ he had left the com¬ 
pany at the Court House as he found it,” and that “ a forgotten 
business engagement had compelled him to be absent from their 
councils for a few hours,” he took his way to a distant part of 
the village, where he called on an acquaintance of neutral politics. 
And here becoming much engaged in conversation, and feigning 
to have forgotten the hour of the night, he wdfe at last prevailed 
on to accept, as he did with great seeming reluctance, the invi¬ 
tation of his host to tarry till morning. 

After Patterson and his minions retreated from the Court House, 
they returned to the tory tavern, and there remained several 
hours, alternately cursing their opponents for rebellious obstinacy 
in not yielding to their commands and menaces, and their ex¬ 
pected friends for their tardiness in reaching the place. And 
affairs remaining in this situation till a late hour in the evening, 
they were on the point of giving up all thoughts of renewing the 
attack that night, when the long and anxiously looked for re¬ 
enforcement, consisting of thirty or forty armed men, came hur- 
rying on to the ground. The sinking spirits and waning courage 
of the blustering sheriff and his confederates now instantly re¬ 
vived ; and, exulting that they now had the power to gffit their 
vengeance, they resolved on making an immediate assault. And 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


63 


after fortifying their courage with liberal potations of brandy, the 
whole party, now swelled, not only by the freshly arrived forces, 
but by Brush, Peters, Stearns, and many others, who had declined 
joining in the first sally, to nearly one hundred men, eagerly set 
forward to the scene of action. 

The other party, in the mean time, though still maintaining a 
watchful guard at the doors of the Court House, had yet been 
so long exempted from an attack of their foes, that they .were 
now in but little expectation of being any further molested till the 
next morning. And some were lying stretched upon the benches 
in the court-room, asleep ; some, with their great-coats under their 
heads,' were reposing on the floors of the different passages of the 
house ; while others were sitting round the fires, engaged in 
smoking and conversation. 

Among those taking their turns as sentries, at this juncture, 
were Woodburn and Bart, who, with each a stout cane or cudgel 
in his hand, were now stationed at the principal entrance. 

“ They are coming! ” cried Bart, who, having gone out into 
tiie street to ascertain what might be the noise which they had 
heard at a distance, now came running up, with an excited air, 
to his companion ; “ they are upon us again, with twice as many 
men as before, and plenty of guns ! ” 

“ In with the news! ” said Woodburn, as the appearance of 
the hostile party wheeling up towards the Court House the next 
instant confirmed the other’s statement — “ in with the news, 
and tell them to man the doors, or in two minutes we shall be 
routed.” 

Instantly springing into the door, which he unfortunately left 
open, Bart made the announcement to French, who was restlessly 
moving about in the passage, and who repeated the same in a 
voice which started all, both above and below to their feet. 

“ They are coming for our blood ! ” he added, in a tone of 
strange, wild glee. “ Ay, there they come ! I see them levelling 
.heir guns in the yard ! Now for the victims ! Let us die 
like-” 

The report of two or three muskets, and the whistling of bullets 
through the passage just over his head, cut short the speaker. 
A moment of breathless silence ensued ; when the harsh, ruffian 
voice of Patterson was heard from without, — 

“ Damn ye, why don’t you fire ? ” 

A general discharge of the fire-arms of the assailants, flashing 
fiercely on the surrounding darkness, and sending their deadly 




64 


THE RANGERS, 


missiles through the passage, windows, and sides of the house, in 
every direction, instantly followed the ferocious order. And, iij 
the expiring light, the fated French was seen to leap into the air; 
and then, spinning giddily round and round an instant, fall, with 
a low, short screech, prostrate on the floor ; while mingled groans, 
rising from a half dozen others along the passage, told also the 
fearful effect of the murdprous volley. 

With the discharge of their arms, the assailing force, guided 
by their torch-bearers, made a rush for the Court House. As 
they approached the door, Woodburn, who had kept his post, 
unhurt, on one side of the steps, sprang forward to dispute their 
passage, and, after knocking up the swords 'and bayonets that 
were aimed at his breast, laid about him so lustily with his cudgel, 
that the whole party were, for some moments, kept at bay. 
At length, however, Peters, who was near the rear of the hostile 
column, perceiving it was his hated opponent who was disputing 
the pass so resolutely, stealthily crept round those in front, and 
coming up partly behind his intended victini, with a protruded 
sabre, aimed a deadly lunge at his body, exultingly exclaiming 
with the supposed fatal thrust, — 

“ There ! d-d rebel, take that! ” 

“ And you that! ” cried the other, who, having, from a 
lucky turn in his body at the instant, received only a flesh-wound 
on the inner side of his arm, now, with an upward sweep of his 
cudgel, knocked the sword of the detestable assassin twenty feet 
into the air — “ and you that! ay, and that ! ” he added, as, 
with a quickly repeated blow over the head, he sent his foe 
reeling to the earth. 

But the weapon of the intrepid young man being now caught, 
and his body fiercely grappled by four or five of his exasperated 
foes, he was soon disarmed, and, in spite of his desperate strug¬ 
gles, borne into the court-house with the crowd, who now rushed 
furiously along the passages, wounding with their swords, and 
beating down with their guns and clubs, without distinction or 
mercy, all whom they met in their way. 

“ Guard the doors instantly ! ” shouted Patterson, who perceived 
that numbers of the vanquished party were retreating through tho 

different doors ; “ don’t let another of the d-d rascals escape I 

And, hallo there, jailer ! bring on the keys of the prison-rooms ; 
we will cage the whole lot, dead or alive, and let ’em be enjoying 
a few of the fruits of their rebellion now, and the blessed anticipa* 
tions of being hung for high treason hereafter.” 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


65 


The obsequious jailer soon appeared with the required keys; 
and the doors of both prison-rooms were speedily unlocked and 
thrown open by the directions of the sheriff. 

“ Now, tumble them in, boys ! ” resumed the sheriff, with look 
and tone of savage exultation. 

Eager to obey, the supple tools of arbitrary power now com¬ 
menced driving all those of their prisoners who had not been too 
much disabled by their wounds to stand, together into the prison- 
rooms. They then seized hold of the wounded, who lay welter¬ 
ing in their blood in different parts of the floor of the long pas¬ 
sage, and began dragging them along by their limbs to the same 
destination. 

“ Monster! ” exclaimed Woodburn, looking back from the 
felon’s cell which he was about to enter, and addressing Redding, 
who stood mimicking, with fiendish glee, the groans and contor¬ 
tions of French, as he lay gasping and writhing in mortal agony 
on the spot where he fell, just beyond the short passage dividing 
the prison-rooms — “ monster,” he repeated, “ would you insult 
the dying ? ” 

“ Yes, d—n you! ” savagely interposed Gale, stepping forward ; 
“ he has got just what he deserved ; and I wish there were forty 
more of you in the same predicament. Drag him along in there 
with the rest of ’em. Redding ! ” 

“Ay, ay,” responded Patterson, “ in with him ! And I can tell 
the rest of them, they had better be saving their pity for them¬ 
selves, for they will all be in hell before to-morrow night! ” 

It is needless to say that this brutal order was promptly obeyed. 
And when the dying and insensible victim, pierced through head 
and body, and all the wounded, had been drawn in and thrown 
promiscuously together, on the cold, damp floors of the prison- 
rooms, the keys were turned upon them ; and their remorseless 
butchers, making not the least provision for the sufferers, by way 
of medical aid or otherwise, returned, after posting a strong guard 
at the doors, to the tavern or the house of Brush, to celebrate their 
victory in a drunken carousal. 

6 * 


66 


THE RANGERS, 


CHAPTER VI. 


** The brand is on their brows, 
A dark and guilty sfKJt} 
’Tis ne’er to be erased, 

’Tis ne’er to be forgot.” 


Whatever may be the result of the present public movement 
for the abolition of capital punishment, and however far future 
experiments may go towards establishing the expediency and 
safety of such a change in criminal jurisprudence, the history of 
every nation and people will show, we believe, the remarkable 
fact, that ever since Cain stood before his Maker with his hands 
reeking with the blood of his murdered brother, and his heart so 
deeply smitten with the consciousness of having justly forfeited 
his own life by taking the life of another, that he could not divest 
himself of the belief that all men would seek to slay him, no one 
principle has been found to be more deeply implanted in the 
human breast than the desire to see the wilful shedding of blood 
atoned for by the blood of the perpetrator. So strong, so active, 
and so impelling, indeed, seems this principle, that no sooner goes 
forth the dread tale of homicide, than all community rise up, 
as one man, instinctively impressed with the duty of hunting down 
the guilty and bringing them to justice; while the guilty them¬ 
selves seem no less instinctively impressed with the abiding con¬ 
sciousness that the doom, which heaven and earth has decreed to 
their crimes, must inevitably overtake them. 

Deep and fearful was the excitement, in the hitherto quiet and 
peaceful village of Westminster, as from mouth to mouth, and 
house to house, spread the startling intelligence, that a meeting 
of unarmed citizens, assembled at the Court House, had been 
assailed, and numbers shot down in cold blood by the minions of 
British authority. The whole town was soon in commotion. No 
loud noise or clamor of voices, it is true, was heard proclaiming 
the deed on the midnight air; but the rapid footfalls of men hur¬ 
rying along the streets, the hastily exchanged inquiry, the eager, 
suppressed tones of those conversing in small groups at the corners 
and by-places around the village, the hasty opening and shutting of 
doors, and the dancing of lights in every direction, gave ominous 
indication of the feeling that had every where been awakened, 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


67 


and the secret movement which was every where afoot among the 
people. 

A small band, who had gathered in the yard of what was called 
the People’s Tavern, were listening, with many a demonstration 
of horror and indignation, to the account of one who had escaped 
from the Court House after the tories had got possession. 

“ Where are our leaders, Morris ? ” asked one of the listeners, 
as the speaker, a fluent, energetic young man, closed his recital 
of the atrocities he had witnessed. “ Did they escape, or are they 
among the wounded and prisoners ? ” 

“ Wright and Carpenter had gone off before we were attacked,” 
was the reply; “the rest, not among the wounded I have named, 
escaped in the confusion, I think, except Dr. Jones, of Rocking¬ 
ham, who was driven into the felon’s hole with other prisoners; and 
it may be well that he was, perhaps, as those bloodthirsty brutes 
would have suffered no surgeon to be sent for to attend those who 
are not past help.” 

“And Tom Dunning, whose rifle we shall need,— what became 
of him ? ” 

“ He got out in the same manner I did. We stood in a dark 
corner, at the head of the stairs, taking note of the proceedings 
below ; when that crafty little chap, that joined us from Brush’s, 
came wriggling like an eel out from between the legs of the 
crowding tories, in the passage; and, working himself up stairs 
unnoticed, in the same way, beckoned us to follow him, as we did, 
into the court-room, where, at his suggestion, we stripped off the 
sheets of a bed, in one of those corner sleeping cuddies, made a 
rope, and by it let ourselves down through a window to the 
ground in the rear of the house; when we separated, Dunning 
going home, as he said, to arm himself. But here he comes,” 
added the speaker, peering out towards the street, from which 
several forms were dimly seen approaching — “ here he comes; 
and those just behind him I should judge to be Carpenter and 
Fletcher, by their gait.” 

“ Well, Dunning,” asked one of the company, as the hunter 
came striding up to the spot, “ what is your response to all this ? ” 

«Der — sixty bullets, and a — ditter — pound of powder!” 
was the stern and significant reply of the other, as with one hand 
he struck his rattling bullet-pouch and huge powder-horn, and 
with the other brought down the breech of his rifle with a heavy 
blow upon the ground. 

“ That’s the man for me ! ” exclaimed Fletcher, now coming 
up with Carpenter. 


68 


THE RANGERS, 


“Ay, Dunning is right! ” said Carpenter, with emphasis ; “ if 
we hold our peace now, the very stones will cry ont for vengeance ! 
But talking is only a small part of what must be done. We must 
act. And first of all, this tale of murder and outrage must in¬ 
stantly be thrown upon the four winds of heaven, and carried into 
every town in this part of the settlement. Who will volunteer to 
ride express with the news ? — news which, if I know any thing of 
the spirit of the great mass of our people, will be taken as a call 
to arms, and responded to accordingly.” 

Several eager voices announced their readiness to start off at 
once on the proposed mission. 

“ Follow me to the stables, then,” resumed the stanch patriot, 
hastily leading the way to the barn, and throwing open a stable 
door. “ There ! ” he continued, pointing to a pair of large, active¬ 
looking brutes, feeding together in one stall — “ there are my two 
horses — take them. Let one of their riders go north, the other 
south; and spare no horse-flesh of mine in an emergency likfe 
this ; but ride and rally, till you have sent the bloody tale to 
every house and hut this side the mountains. And you, Morris 
and Dunning, accompany me to Captain Wright’s. More mes¬ 
sengers must be despatched west and east, into the borders of 
New Hampshire, and much other business done before morning.” 

A far different scene, in the mean while, was in progress among 
the inmates of the loyal mansion, which we have before described, 
and which was destined to give shelter that night to the last con¬ 
clave of royal office-holders ever known in the Green Mountains. 
Although the leaders of the court party had returned from the 
sanguinary scene they had enacted, in high exultation at the 
decisive victory they supposed they had achieved over their 
despised opponents, yet neither their own vain boastings, nor the 
deeply-quaffed wines of their host, could long keep up their spirits. 
Conscience soon began to be busy among them ; and their hearts 
waxed faint and fearful at the thought of what they had done. 
They instinctively drew close together, conversed in subdued 
tones, or sat uneasily listening to the sounds that occasionally 
reached them from without. And whatever they might have 
said to keep up their own and each other’s courage, it soon be¬ 
came apparent that secret misgivings, fears, and forebodings of a 
coming retribution had taken possession of their guilt-smitten 
bosoms. 

And there was another person in that house, to whom the 
tragical events of the night brought deep disquietude ; but it was 
a disquietude of quite a different character from that which was 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


(59 


experienced by the troubled wretches we have named: that 
person was the Tory’s Daughter — the pure, guileless, and noble- 
minded Sabrey Haviland. 

Having been apprised of the intention of Patterson and his 
confederates to make an assault upon their opponents as soon as 
the expected reenforcements arrived, her anxieties on the subject 
had prevented her from retiring to rest, as her less concerned com¬ 
panion did, at the usual hour. And when the startling report of fire^ 
arms broke upon the stillness of the night, she was not, like many 
others in the village, at loss to know the cause ; and her fears led 
her to divine but too well the fatal result. And after an interval 
of painful suspense, which was terminated by the return of the 
tory leaders to the house, she stole softly out of her chamber to 
the head of the stairs, and there listened with mingled emotions 
of horror and disgust to the boastful recital of their sanguinary 
deeds, as given by the heartless Gale and others, to her father and 
Judge Sabin, who had remained in the house, but who, she per¬ 
ceived with sorrow, were warm approvers of all that had been done. 
But, as revolting to her gentle nature as was the general descrip 
tion of the event, the particulars the exulting narrators soon pro¬ 
ceeded to give were much more so. And when she heard them 
relate the affray between Woodburn and Peters, and heard the 
latter, while making light of his own hurts, boast that he had 
first given the other a thrust with his sword through the body, 
which must finish him before morning, she could listen no longer, 
but, hastily retiring to her room, she walked the apartment for 
nearly an hour in the deepest agitation and distress. 

Among the many excellent traits of Miss Haviland’s character, 
a lively sense of right and wrong, together with a deep and 
abiding love of truth and justice, unquestionably predominated. 
So strong and controlling, indeed, was this principle in her 
bosom, that it exhibited itself in all her conversation, and seemed 
to be the governing motive of all her actions. And when she 
" ftad once discovered the truth and the right, at which she ap¬ 
peared to arrive with intuitive quickness, no wheedling or sophis¬ 
try could blind her to their force ; and no inducements could be 
o&red sufficient to cause her to waver in their support. And 
yet this peculiar trait, as deeply seated as it was, and as firmly 
as it was ever exercised, was so beautifully tempered by the 
benevolence of her heart, the equanimity of her mind, and the 
engaging sweetness of her demeanor, that it never seemed to im¬ 
part the least tinge of arrogance to her character, or harshness 
to her manners. On the contrary, she was all gentleness and 


70 


THE RANGERS, 


affection, and ever ready to comply with the wishes of others, 
when a compliance did not contravene, in her opinion, any of 
the principles of even-handed justice; and, in case she felt 
bound to refuse to yield to their requests, her refusal was made 
and maintained with such mild firmness, that none could be 
offended, none feel inclined to charge her with obstinacy or per¬ 
verseness. She was at this time the mistress of her father’s 
household, her exemplary and intellectual mother having several 
years before deceased, and her elder and only sister, the year 
previous, married one of the leading loyalists of Guilford. And 
it had been mainly through the influence of this sister and her 
husband, that she had been induced, the preceding fall, to take 
the step which was destined to cause her years of sorrow and 
perplexity — that of engaging herself in marriage to Peters. 
She had found few or no opportunities of studying this man’s 
character, having known him only as a parlor acquaintance, of 
easy manners and considerable intelligence. And although she 
saw nothing particularly objectionable in him, and although she 
knew that, in point of wealth and family distinction, he was con¬ 
sidered what is termed a desirable match, yet she had entered 
into the engagement with many misgivings, and in compliance 
rather with the wishes of her friends above named, seconded by 
the urgent request of her father, than in accordance with the dic¬ 
tates of her own judgment and inclination. But whatever her 
doubts at that time, or during the months immediately following, 
they had not been sufficient to disturb the usual even tenor of 
her feelings, till she left home on her present excursion, during 
which, as already intimated, she had seen the character of her 
affianced in a new light—a light which showed him to be pos¬ 
sessed of traits as abhorrent to her feelings, as, to her mind, they 
were base and reprehensible in themselves. And now, to crown 
all, he had, by an act of deliberate, private malice, even according 
to his own account, inflicted a mortal wound on the victim of his 
former injuries — the man who, but the day before, had snatched 
her, whom the other professed to hold as the highest object of his 
earthly solicitude, from a watery grave. It was these painful 
reflections that were now agitating her bosom ; for the more she 
pondered upon the conduct of Peters, the more did her heart 
reject and despise him ; and in proportion as her feelings rose 
up against him were her sympathies drawn towards his victim, 
Wood burn, whose noble act had created so strong a claim upon 
her gratitude, and whose character and appearance had alike 
awakened her interest and admiration. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


71 


“ Is it indeed thus,” she at length uttered, as if summing up 
the thoughts that had been passing through her mind, “ that he 
who saved my life, at the risk of his own, must die by the hand 
of one who should have been the first to thank and reward him ? 
Ay, and die, too, without receiving from me, or mine, one word 
of acknowledgment, even, of the service he so nobly rendered ? 
Perhaps the thought of our ingratitude is now embittering his 
dying moments ! Can I, should I suffer this so to remain ? ” 

Here she relapsed into silence, and, slowly resuming her walk 
round the room, seemed for a while immersed in anxious thought; 
when she suddenly paused, and, after a moment of apparent 
irresolution, stepped to the wall, and gave two or three pulls at 
the wire connected with the servants’ bell in the kitchen. In a 
few minutes the summons was answered by the appearance of 
the chamber-maid. 

“ Will you go down to the gentlemen’s sitting-room,” said Miss 
Haviland, “ ask out my father, and tell him I would see him a 
moment in my own room ? ” 

The girl disappeared, and, in a short time, Esquire Haviland, 
with a slightly disturbed and anxious air, entered the room, and 
said, — 

“ What’s the matter, Sabrey > Are you sick to-nigbt, that you 
are yet up and send for me ? ” 

“ O, no,” replied the other; “ nothing of that kind led nie to 
send for you, but my wish to make a request which I was un¬ 
willing to delay.” 

The squire cast a somewhat surprised and inquiring look at 
his daughter, but remained silent, while the latter resumed : — 

“ You recollect that this morning, after apprising you of the 
extent of our obligations to Mr. Woodburn, about which you 
seem to have been so misinformed, I suggested that a personal 
acknowledgment, with offers of some more substantial token of 
our gratitude, should be immediately made to him. Has this 
been done ? ” 

“ No,” replied he, with a gathering frown: “ having under¬ 
stood the fellow was assorting with the rebels in their treasonable 
plots, I did not feel myself bound to seek him in such company. 
Is that all you wish of me ? ” 

“ It is not,~sir,” she answered seriously, and with the air of one 
determined not to be repulsed. “ I have accidentally become 
apprised that Mr. Woodburn, in the affray of to-night, has been 
dangerously wounded, and, in this condition, thrust into prison 
And, as we have now an opportunity of testifying our sense of 


73 


THE RANGERS, 


his services, it is my earnest request that you procure his release 
from prison, for which your influence here, I know, is sufficient; 
that he may be brought out to-night and properly attended.” 

“ Insane girl! ” muttered the father, angrily, “ what can have 
put that absurd project into your head ? Had you been abed 
hours ago, as you ought, instead of being up and prying into the 
doings of our authorities, with which a woman has no concern, I 
should have been spared this exhibition of folly. Why, the 
wretched fellow is but receiving the just deserts of his crimes. 
He is in prison for high treason; qnd had I the will, which 1 
have not, I could not procure his release.” 

“ I cannot believe these opposers of the court will be held to 
answer for such a crime. Indeed, it has occurred to me that the 
authorities themselves may be called to account for firing upon 
these unarmed men ; and therefore I still hope you will use your 
exertions for Woodburn’s release,” urged the fair pleader. 

“ You are to be the judge what is treason, then, hey ? And 
you are ready to side with these daring and desperate fellows, 
and condemn our authorities, are you .? What assurance ! You 
will hardly persuade me to favor your mad projects, I think,” 
narshly retorted the bigoted old gentleman. 

“ You can, at least, go to the prison and return him the ac¬ 
knowledgments which our character and credit require of us,” 
still persisted the former. 

Well, I shall do no such thing,” replied the other, with 
angry impatience ; “ for I consider the fellow’s conduct to-night 
has wholly absolved me from my obligations to him, if I was 
ever under any,” he added, rising to depart. 

“ I do not view it so, father,” returned the unmoved girl, in a 
mild, expostulating tone, “ and I am sorry for your decision; 
for, if those whose place it more properly is to do this, refuse to 
perform it, I know not why I should not myself undertake the 
duty.” 

“ You! ” 

“ Yes, father.” 

“ What, to-night.? ” 

“ Certainly ; another day may be too late.” 

Madness and folly ! Why, who is to attend you, silly girl.?-” 

“ If no gentleman is to be found with courtesy enough to 
attend me, I shall not hesitate to go alone, sir.” 

“ We will see if you do ! ” exclaimed the old gentleman, looking 
back from the entrance at the other, with an expression of scorn¬ 
ful defiance — “ we will see if you do, madam ! ”’ he repeated, 


OR THE TORY' .S DAUGHTER. 


73 


closing the door after him, and turning the key on his daughter, 
whom he thus left a prisoner in her own room. 

As Miss Haviland listened to the springing bolt and her father’s 
departing steps, a slight flush overspread her face at the thought 
of the indignity thus put upon her, and she rose, and, after put¬ 
ting her hand to the door to assure herself that she was not mis¬ 
taken, proceeded, with a calm, determined air, to a table on one 
side of the room, on which stood the materials for writing ; and 
here, taking pen and paper, she seated herself, and addressed 
a brief note to Woodburn, delicately expressing her sense of 
obligation to him, and concluding with the hope that she might 
soon have it in her power to do something towards alleviating 
his present situation. Having signed, sealed, and superscribed 
the billet, she rose and stood some time hesitating and irres¬ 
olute. 

By what means could this note, now it was written, be made 
to reach its destination ? Should she again summon the 
chamber-maid, she presumed her father had so managed that 
the call would not be answered ; besides, she felt a repugnance to 
the thought of resorting to such means. What other method 
could then be devised ? 

While thus casting about her for some expedient for effecting her 
purpose, she thought she heard some one placing a ladder against 
the side of the house, beneath a window, opening from the rear 
end of the passage adjoining her room ; and, after listening a 
moment, she distinctly heard the person cautiously ascending. 
Not being of a timid cast, she quickly removed the thick, heavy 
curtains of the window in her room next and very near the one 
under which the unknown intruder was mounting the ladder, and, 
throwing up the sash, peered out; when, to her surprise, she 
beheld, and at once recognized, the queer-looking figure of Barty 
Burt, standing on the top round of the ladder, scratching his head, 
and giving other tokens of embarrassment at being thus unex¬ 
pectedly caught in this situation. 

“ Master Bart,” said Miss Haviland, who had become sonae- 
what acquainted with the other, while supplying her room with 
fuel, previous to his ejection from the house, to which she was 
knowing, “ your appearance, at this time, to say the least of it, 
causes me much surprise.” 

“ I returns the compliment, miss,” replied Bart; “ so that 
makes us even, and no questions on ither side, don’t it ? ” 

“Perhaps not, sir,” returned the former, with seriousness: 
“ at all events, you should be able to give a good reason for your 
7 


74 


THE RANGERS, 


appearance here, under such circumstances: please explain your 
object.” 

“ And if I don’t, you will sing out for the squire, you said ? 
Well, I can get down, and off, before he can get here, 1 reckon,” 
responded Bart, in a tone of roguish defiance. 

‘‘ I did not say I would call Esquire Brush ; but, unless you 
explain-” 

“ Yes, yes, jest as lieves as not, and will, if you’ll keep shut 
' till 1 can run up garret and back.” 

“ Your purpose there, sir ? ” 

“ An honest one — only to get my gun up there, which the 
squire didn’t have put out for me, when he dismissed me with 
his high-heeled shoes, to-day, and which I darsent name then, 
fear he’d have that thrown down, like my ’tother duds,and break 
it — only that — and if you’ll say nothing, and let me whip in, 
and up to get it. I’ll lay it up against you, as a great oblige, to 
be paid for, by a good turn to you some time, miss.” 

“ If that is all, go — and I may wish to speak with you when 
you come hack.” 

So saying, she gently let dbwn the sash, and, withdrawing a 
little from her window, stood awaiting the result; when she soon 
heard the other, with the light and stealthy movements of a cat, 
enter the house, and ascend into the garret, through a small side- 
door, opening from the passage we have named. Scarcely a 
minute had elapsed before she again heard his footsteps stealing 
back by her door to the window, through which he had so noise¬ 
lessly entered ; when, once more raising the sash of her own, 
she found him already standing on the top of the ladder where she 
last saw him, he having effected his ingress and egress with such 
celerity, that but for the light fusil he now held in his hand, she 
would have believed herself mistaken in supposing he had entered 
at all. 

“ Well, miss, I am waiting for your say so,” he said, in a low 
tone, peering warily around him. 

“ Have you been to the Court House to-night ? ” hesitatingly 
asked the other. 

“ Well, now,” replied Bart, hesitating in his turn, “ without 
more token for knowing what you’re up to. I’ll say, may be so, 
and may be no so.” 

- “ You need not fear me, Bart,” replied Sabrey, conjecturing 
the cause of his hesitation; “I am no enemy of those who 
have suffered there to-night. But do you know Mr. Wood* 
burn?” 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


75 


“ Harry, who got you out of that river scrape ? Yes; lived 
in his town last summer.” 

“ He is among the wounded and prisoners in jail, it is said F ” 

“ Dreadful true, miss.” 

“ Could you get this small letter to him to-night F ” she timidly 
asked. 

“ Yes, through the grate; glad to do it, glad of it, twice 
over,” replied Bart, reaching out and grasping the proffered 
billet. 

“ Why, why do you say that F ” asked Sabrey, with an air of 
mingled doubt and curiosity. 

“ Cause, in the first place, you’ll now keep my secret of being 
here; and nextly, glad to find there’s one among the court folks 
that feels decent about this bloody business. But I must be off. 
l^es. I’ll get it to him,” said Bart, beginning to descend. 

“ Stay, Barty. Is there any hope that Mr. Woodburn will sur¬ 
vive his wounds F ” 

“ Survive F Live, do you mean F O, yes ; though the lunge 

which that- But no matter. It was well meant for the heart, 

and the fellow wan’t at all to blame that it didn’t reach it, instead 
of the inner part of the arm.” 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Miss Haviland, in a tone of joyful sur¬ 
prise ; which the next instant, however, gave way to one of 
embarrassment. “ Why, I heard — have written, indeed, under 
the belief that — and perhaps —■— Barty, I think, on the whole, 
I will not send that billet now.” 

As Bart heard these last words of the fair speaker, so incon¬ 
sistent with all which both her words and manner had just ex¬ 
pressed, he looked up with a stare of surprise to her face, now 
sufficiently revealed, by the glancing light standing near her in the 
room, to betray its varying .expressions. But, as he ran his keen 
gray eyes over her hesitating and slightly confused countenance, 
he soon seemed to read the secret cause of her sudden change 
of purpose, arising from that curious and beautiful trait in 
woman’s heart, which, by some gush of awakened sympathy, 
often unfolds all the lurking secrets of the breast, but which, 
when the cause of that sympathy is removed, closes up the 
avenue, and conceals them from view, in the cold reserve of 
shrinking delicacy — the colder and more impenetrable in propor¬ 
tion as the disclosure has been complete. 

“ O, yes, I will carry it,” said Bart, pretending to misunder¬ 
stand the other, while he pocketed the billet and began to glide 
down the ladder. 





76 


THE RANGERS, 


“ No,” commenced Miss Haviland ; “ no, Bart, I said-” 

“ Yes, yes, I will have it there in a jiffy,” interrupted Bart, 
hastening his descent, and the next instant dodging away in the 
dark beneath the foot of the ladder. 

“ Well, let it go,” said the foiled and somewhat mortified 
maiden to herself, after the disappearance of her strange visitor. 
“ If what I expressed, when I thought him dying, was right and 
proper, it cannot be very wrong now.” 

As soon as she had thus reconciled herself to the unexpected 
turn which this matter had taken, Miss Haviland now began to 
reflect more on Bart’s motives in coming, at such an hour of the 
night, for his gun ; when it, for the first time, occurred to her 
mind, that he had been induced to take this step in consequence 
of some particular call for arms having reference to the events 
of the evening. Fearing she might have done wrong in suffering 
him to take away the gun, if it was to be used for hostile purposes, 
and anxious to know whether her conjectures relative to a rising 
of the people were well founded, she proceeded to an end win¬ 
dow of her room, which overlooked a range of buildings known 
to her to be mostly occupied by the opposers of royal authority; 
and removing the curtains and raising the sash, she leaned out 
and listened for any unusual sounds which might reach her from 
without. And it was not long before she became well convinced 
that her apprehensions were not groundless. Some extraordinary 
movement was evidently going on in the village. The low hum 
of suppressed voices, mingled with various sounds of busy prepa¬ 
ration, came up, on the dense night air, from almost every direc¬ 
tion around her. Here, was heard the small hammer, the grating 
file, with the occasional clicking of the firelock, undergoing repairs 
by the use of the instruments just named. There, could be dis¬ 
tinguished the pecking of flints, the rattling of ramrods, and the 
regularly repeated rapping of bullet-moulds to disengage the 
freshly-cast balls. In other places could be perceived the hasty 
movements of men about the stables, evidently engaged in lead¬ 
ing out and saddling horses, and making other preparations for 
mounting; and then followed the sounds of the quick, shoit 
gallop of their steeds, starting off, on express, in various directions, 
under the sharply applied lashes of excited riders, and distinctly 
revealing their different routes out of the village, by the streams 
of fire that flew from their rapidly striking hoofs on the gravelly 
and frozen ground. All, indeed, seemed to be in silent commo¬ 
tion through the town. Bart’s object in coming for his gun, at 
such an hour of the night, was now sufficiently explained ; for 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. T7 

the quick and discerning mind of Miss Haviland at once told 
her that the country was indeed rising in arms to avenge the 
atrocities just committed by the party among whom were all her 
relatives and friends; and she shuddered at the thought of to¬ 
morrow, feeling, as she did, a secret and boding consciousness 
that their downfall, brought about by their arrogance pod crimes, 
was now at hand. 

- 7 # 


78 


THE RANGERS, 


CHAPTER VII. 


“A shout as of waters — a lone-uttered cry : 

Hark ! iiark ! how it leaps from the earth to the sky I 
From the sky to the earth, from the earth to the sea. 
It is grandly reechoed, We are free, we are free! ” 


Every thing, the next morning, seemed as quiet and peaceful in 
the village, as if nothing unusual had occurred there. Thecommo- 
itonof the preceding night appeared to have wholly subsided. With 
such secrecy and caution, indeed, had the revolutionists managed, 
that no knowledge of their movements had yet reached the ears of 
any of their opponents. And so guarded was their conduct, through 
the whole morning, that the court party leaders, although their 
spies had early been out, prowling round the whole village, were 
yet kept in entire ignorance of all that had transpired among 
the former during the night. Being consequently deceived by 
the false appearance which every thing within the reach of their 
observation had been made to wear, and feeling thus relieved of 
their last night’s guilty fears of a popular outbreak, these cruel 
and dastardly minions of royalty now counted on their triumph 
as complete ; and, soon giving way to noisy exultation, they 
began openly to boast of the sanguinary measure by which their 
supposed victory had been achieved. And, about nine o’clock in 
the forenoon, the judges and officers of court, with a select num¬ 
ber of their most devoted adherents, all in high spirits, and 
wholly unsuspicious of the storm that was silently gathering 
around them, formed a procession at the house of Brush, and, 
attended by a strong armed escort, marched ostentatiously 
through the street to the Court House, and entered the court¬ 
room to commence the session. 

After the judges had been ushered to their seats, and while 
they were waiting for the crowd to enter and settle in their places. 
Chandler, who had kept aloof till the procession had begun to 
form, was seen to run his wary and watchful eye several times 
over the assembly, to ascertain whether there were any discover¬ 
able indications there pointing to any different state of things 
from the one so confidently assumed by his confederates, when 
he soon appeared to have noted some circumstance which caused 
him suddenly to exchange the bland smile he had been' wearing 
for a look of thoughtfulness and concern. 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


79 


“ Do you notice any thing unusual in the crowd this morning, 
Judge Sabin ?” he said to his colleague, in an anxious whisper, 
as he closed his scrutiny. 

“ No, your honor,” replied the other, “ unless it be the cheer¬ 
ing sight of encountering none but friendly faces, instead of the 
hostile ones, which a man would have been led to expect to meet 
here, after so much clamor about popular disaffection. 

‘‘Ay,” responded the former, with a dubious shake of the 
head — “ay, but that is the very circumstance that puzzles me. 
Had a portion of the assembly been made up of our opponents, 
quietly mingling with the rest, as I had rather hoped, I should 
have construed it into a token of submission ; or, had a committee 
been here to present a petition, or a remonstrance or two, I 
should have been prepared for that, and could have managed, 
by a little encouragement, and a good deal of delay, to give 
every troublesome thing'the go-by, till the storm had blown over. 
But this entire absence of the disaffected looks a little suspicious, 
don’t it ? ” 

“ Why, no,” answered the stiff and stolid Sabin ; “ I can see 
nothing suspicious about it. Indeed, it goes to show me that the 
rebellion is crushed ; for, as I presume, the honest but well- 
meaning part of the rebels are ashamed, and their leaders afraid 
to show their faces here to-day, after last night’s lesson.” 

“ I hope it may be as you suppose ; but I have my doubts in 
the matter,” returned Chandler, with another dissenting shake 
of the head, as he turned away to renew his observations on the 
company before him. 

On resuming his scrutiny, the uneasy judge soon perceived 
that the assembly, during his conversation with his colleague, 
had received an accession of several individuals, whom he recog¬ 
nized as belonging to the party whose absence had awakened 
his suspicions.. But the presence of these persons, after he had 
carefully noted their appearance, instead of tending to allay, 
only went to confirm, his apprehensions; for, as he closely 
scanned the bearing and countenance of each, and marked the 
assured and determined look and covert smile which spoke of- 
anticipated triumph, attended with an occasional expectant 
glance through the windows, he there read, with the instinctive 
sagacity sometimes seen in men of his cast of character, enough 
to convince him, with what he had previously observed, that a 
movement of a dangerous magnitude was somewhere in progress, 
and soon to be developed against the court party. And he in¬ 
stantly resolved to lose no time before trimming his sails and 


80 


THE RANGERS, 


preparing to meet the coming storm. And the next moment, to 
the surprise of his colleague and the officers of the court, he was 
on his feet, requesting silence that he might address the assembly. 
He then proceeded to remark on the unfortunate occurrences of 
the previous night, with a show of much feeling and regret, and 
concluded by expressing his disapprobation of the course taken 
in the affair by the sheriff and his abettors, in a manner that 
would have given the highest offence to all implicated, had they 
not believed that the speech was secretly designed only as a 
game on their opponents, whom he might think it expedient to 
quiet and delude a little longer. They, therefore, winked know¬ 
ingly to each other, and remained silent; while the speaker sat 
down with the mental exclamation, — 

“ There, let it come now ! That speech will do to be quoted. 
I can refer them to it as the public expression of my views before 
I knew what was coming.” 

Having thus placed himself in a position, as he believed, w’here 
he could easily turn himself to meet any contingency, — where, in 
case the apprehended overthrow of the court party took place, 
he could easily and safely leap the next hour to a favorable, if 
not a high stand among the new dispensers of place and power, 
or where, should the present authorities be able to sustain them¬ 
selves, he could as easily explain away his objectionable doings, 
and retain his standing among them. Having done this, he then 
turned his attention to the official duties of his place, and ordered 
the crier to give the usual notice, that the court was now open 
for business. This being formally done, the court docket was 
called over, and the causes there entered variously disposed of 
for the time being, by the judges, till they came to that of Wood- 
burn versus Peters; which was a petition for a new trial for the 
recovery of the petitioner’s alleged farm, that had been decided, 
at the preceding term, to be the property of Peters, on the ground 
and in the manner mentioned in a former chapter. 

“ Who answers for this Wood burn > ” said Sabin, with a con¬ 
temptuous air. Significant glances were exchanged among the 
tory lawyers and officers about the bar at the question, and a 
malicious smile stole over the features of Peters, who had found 
a seat among them. 

“ I move the court,” said Stearns, the attorney of Peters, “ for 
a judgment in favor of my client for his costs, and also for a writ 
of possession of his land, of which he has been so unjustly kept 
out by this vexatious proceeding. And, as the petitioner has not 
entered his appearance according to rule, whereby he tacitly 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


81 


admits that his cause cannot be sustained, I will not permit my¬ 
self to doubt that the court will so order, even at this early hour— 
they certainly have the power to do so.” 

“ They have also the power to postpone the hearing, even to the 
last day of the term, before rendering judgment,” bluntly inter¬ 
posed Knights, a large, plain-looking practitioner at the bar, who 
had taken no active part either for or against the court party. 
“ We all know how this young man is debarred from appearing 
here to-day ; and it seems to me manifestly unjust that any power 
which deprives a man of the opportunity of appearing at court, 
should render judgment against him in consequence of his non- 
appearance. I would, therefore, suggest a delay in this cause. 
Perhaps, within a short time, he will employ counsel, or be liber¬ 
ated.” 

“And perhaps be hung for treason,” said Stearns, in a sneer¬ 
ing under-tone. 

“ Do you answer for him or not, Mr. Knights ? ” demanded 
Sabin, impatiently. 

“ No, your honor ; he has not authorized me. I only made a 
suggestion,” answered the former. 

“ Then judgment must go for Peters,” rejoined Sabin, with 
ill suppressed warmth. “ Traitors and rebels must look some¬ 
where else for favor, beside this court, while I hold a seat here.” 

“ Nobody has yet been convicted of treason, I believe,” 
promptly responded Knights, while an expression of indignant 
scorn flashed over his manly and intelligent countenance; “ and 
till such is the case, I take it the rights of all have an equal claim 
on the court. I should be pleased to hear the opinion of the chief 
justice in this matter.” 

“Although I may have my doubts on this subject, Mr. Knights,” 
graciously replied Chandler, “ you could hardly expect me to be 
guilty of so great a discourtesy to my colleague here, as to inter¬ 
fere, after the intimation he has just given.” 

“ Make the entry, Mr. Clerk,” said Sabin, hastily ; “judgment 
for costs, and a writ of possession. I am not troubled with any 
doubts in the matter, and will take the responsibility of the de¬ 
cision.” 

Scarcely was the cause thus decided before Peters glided up 
to the clerk, and whispered in his ear; when the latter, nodding 
assentingly, opened his desk, and taking out two nicely-folded 
papers, handed them slyly to the other, who, receiving them in 
the same manner, immediately left the court-room and proceeded 
down stairs. As the exulting suitor passed through the crowd 


82 


THE RANGERS, 


gathered round the main entrance, he beckoned to a short, thick¬ 
set, harsh-featured fellow, who immediately followed him around 
a corner of the building. 

Well, Fitch,” said Peters, pausing as soon as they were out 
of the reach of observation, “ have you done up your business in 
town, so as to be ready for a start for Guilford ? ” 

“ Yes ; don’t know but I have. But you can’t have got your 
decision, papers made out, and all, so soon as this .? ” replied the 
other. 

“ All complete ! ” returned Peters, triumphantly. 

“ Why, the court has not been in session an hour ! ” 

“ True, but I had spoken to Judge Sabin to have my case taken 
up this morning; and, as nobody-was authorized to answer for 
Woudburn, the case was disposed of in a hurry. And the clerk, 
with whom I had also arranged matters, had made out the papers 
before going into court, and got them all signed off and ready,, in 
anticipation ; and here they are, ready for your hands, Mr. Con-- 
stable.” 

“ Ay, I see ; but what is the necessity of serving them so im¬ 
mediately ? ” 

“ VVhy, there’s no knowing what may happen, Fitch. If the 
rebels, in revenge for last night’s peppering, should send over the 
mountain for old Ethan Allen and his gang to come here to stir 
up and lead on the disaffected, all legal proceedings might be 
stopped. I know most of our folks think, this morning, that the 
enemy are fairly under foot. But Chandler, who is as keen as a 
fox for smelling out trouble, acts to me as if he was frightened ; 
and I think he must have scerUed mischief brewing, some¬ 
where.” 

“ Some say he is a very timorsome man.” 

“ Yes; but watchful and sagacious, and therefore an index not 
to be disregarded.” 

“ May be so. But wbat are your orders about these papers ? ” 

“ With this, the writ of possession, go, in the first place, and 
turn the old woman, his mother, neck and heels, from the house ; 
and then get some stiff fellow in for a tenant, rent free the first 
year, if you can do no better, provided he will defend the prem¬ 
ises against Woodburn, if he escapes unhung. And with this 
paper, an execution for costs, as you will see, seize the fellow’s 
cow and oxen, and all else you can find, and sell them as soon as 
the law will let you.” 

“ Why, you won’t leave enough of the fellow for a grease spot! ” 

. “ Blast him ; I don’t intend to. But now is the time to do it, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


63 


before he can get out of jail and back there to give fight and 
trouble us. So you fix all these matters about right for me, Fitch, 
and I’ll do the handsome thing by you when I come over, after the 
roads get settled, in the spring.” 

“ Never fear me, as long as I know what a friend’s wishes 
are,” replied the constable, with a significant wink, as he stuffed 
the documents into his hat, and bustled off* on the detestable mis¬ 
sion of his more detestable employer. 

While Peters and his official minion was thus engaged, Tom 
Dunning was seen coming, with hasty strides, along the road, 
from the direction of his cabin, which was situated without the 
village, about a half mile north of the Court House, from which 
it would have been visible but for the pine thicket by which it 
was partially enclosed. As the hunter was entering the village, 
he met Morris, hastening up the street, from the opposite part of 
the town. 

Well met,” said Morris ; “ for I was bound to your quarters 
with a message, which-” 

“ Which I am ditter ready to receive, and give you one, 
which I started to carry to your folks, in return. So, first for 
yours.” 

“ Mine is, that we are now drawn up, two hundred strong, in 
the first woods south of the village, and are ready to march.” 

“ And mine, that we are der ditto; besides being a hun 
dred better than you, all chafing, like ditter tied-up dogs, to 
be let on.” 

“ I will back, then, to my post with the news ; and in less than 
a half hour, tell them, they shall hear our signal of entering the 
Tillage, as agreed, which we will expect you to answer, and then 
rush on, as fast as you please, to effect a junction, as we wheel 
into the court-yard. But stay : have the prisoners been apprized 
that their deliverance is at hand ? ” 

“ Yes ; I ran up at the time the court ditter went in, and, 
in the bustle, got a chance to tell them through the grate.” 

“ All right; but how are the wounded doing ? ” 

“ Ditter well, except French, who is fast going.” 

“ Indeed! Poor fellow! But his blood will now soon be 
avenged,” said Morris, as the two now separated and hastened 
back to their respective posts. 

After Peters had despatched the constable on his work of legal 
plunder and revenge, he returned to the court-room for the pur¬ 
pose of pressing to a hearing some other cases which he had 
pending against political opponents, and which he hoped, through 





84 


THE RAJ5GEKS, 


the favor of a biased and corrupt court, to carry as easily as the one 
wherein he had just so wickedly triumphed. But he was not permit¬ 
ted to reap any more of his despicable advantages; for he found that 
another, actuated by motives no less unworthy than his own, had 
already gained the attention of the court to a case of which he 
had been the prime mover and complainant. This was Secretary 
Brush ; and the trial he had been urging on, through Stearns, the 
acting state’s attorney, was that of the alleged murderer, to 
whose somewhat mysterious, as well as suspicious, arrest and im¬ 
prisonment allusion has already been made. 

As you say the witnesses are in court, Mr. Stearns,” observed 
Chandler, after a moment’s consultation with his colleague, “ as 
all the witnesses are here, we have concluded to take up the 
criminal case in question. You may therefore direct the sheriff 
to bring the prisoner into court without delay.” 

The sheriff, accordingly, left the court-room, and, in a short 
time, reappeared with the prisoner, followed by two armed men, 
who closely guarded and conducted him forward to the crimi¬ 
nal’s box. 

The prisoner was a man of the apparent age of sixty, of rather 
slight proportions of body, but with a large head, and coarse fea¬ 
tures, that seemed to be kept almost constantly in play by a lively, 
flashing countenance, in which meekness and fire, kindness and 
austerity, were curiously blended. As he seated himself, he 
turned round and faced the court with a fearless and even scorn¬ 
ful air, but promptly rose, at the bidding of the chief judge, to 
listen to the information, which the clerk proceeded to read 
against him at length, closing by addressing to the respondent the 
usual question as to his guilt or innocence of the charge. 

“ I once,” calmly responded the prisoner — “ I once knocked up 
a pistol, pointed at my breast by a robber. It went off and killed 
one of his fellows, and-” 

“ Say, guilty or not guilty ? ” sternly interrupted the clerk. 

“ Not guilty, then,” answered the other, determined, while 
going through these preliminary forms, that his accusers, the 
court, and audience, should hear what, under other circumstances, 
he would have reserved for the more appropriate time of making 
his defence, or left to his counsel. “ Ay, not guilty ; and that 
gentleman,” he rapidly continued, pointing to Brush, “ that gentle¬ 
man, who has offered to free me if I would submit to be robbed, 
well knows the truth of what I say. The witnesses, whom he has 
suborned, also know it, if they know any thing about that luck¬ 
less affray*” 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


85 


“ Liar ! ” shouted Brush, springing up, in high excitement, as 
soon as he could recover from the surprise and confusion into 
which this bold and unexpected charge had thrown him. 

“ The man’s insane — evidently insane, your honors ! ” cried 
Stearns, who, in his anxiety to shield his friend Brush, thought 
not of the effect of such a remark. 

“ I tharilc the attorney for the government for that admission, 
may it please the court,” said Knights, rising, with a sarcastic 
glance at Stearns. “ I may wish to make use of it.” 

“ Are you counsel for the prisoner, sir ? ” sharply demanded 
the other. 

“ I am, sir,” coolly replied Knights ; “ and you may find, be¬ 
fore we get through the trial, that what the prisoner has said, as 
much out of place as it was, is not the only truth to be devel¬ 
oped. But before the case proceeds any further, I ofier a plea to 
the jurisdiction of this court, and at once submit, whether a man 
can be tried here for an offence alleged to have been committed 
in another county, without a special order from the governor for 
that purpose.” 

“ That order is obtained and on file, sir. So that learned bubble 
is burst, as will all the rest you can raise in favor of the miserable 
wretch you have stooped to defend,” said Stevens, exultingly. 
‘‘ Mr. Clerk, pass up that order to the court.” 

“ Are you satisfied now, Mr. Knights ? ” asked Sabin, with 
undignified feeling, after glancing at the order which had been laid 
before the judges. “ Mr. Stearns, proceed with the. cause.” 

But that court, on whom the subservient attorney and his cor¬ 
rupt and arrogant friend depended to convict an innocent man 
of an infamous crime, that a private and nefarious object might 
thereby be enforced — that court were now destined to be ar¬ 
rested in their career of judicial oppression before they had time 
to add another stain to their already blackened characters: for, 
at this moment, a deep and piercing groan, issuing from one of 
the prison-rooms beneath, resounded through the building so 
fearfully distinct, as to cause every individual of the assembly to 
start, and even to bring the judges and officers of the court to a 
dead pause in their proceedings. A moment of death-like silence 
ensued ; when another and a sharper groan of anguish, bursting 
evidently from the same lips, and swelling up to the highest 
compass of the human voice, and ending in a prolonged screech 
of mortal agony, rang through the apartment, sending a thrill of 
horror to the very hearts of the appalled multitude! 

“ Who What For God’s sake, what is that ? ” exclaimed 
8 


THE RANGERS, 


a dozen eager and trembling voices at once, as nearly the whole 
assembly started to their feet, and stood with amazed and per¬ 
plexed countenances, inquiringly gazing at each other. 

“ Don’t your consciences tell you that ? ” exclaimed the pris¬ 
oner, Herriot, in a loud, fearless voice, running his ste'rn, indignant 
eye over the court, its officers, and leading partisans^around tlie 
bar. “ Don’t your consciences tell you what it was ? Then I 
will! It was the death-screech of the poor murdered French, 
whose tortured spirit, now beyond the reach of your power, went 
out with that fearful cry which has just assailed your guilty 
ears! ” 

“Mr. Sheriff! Mr. Sheriff!” sputtered Sabin, boiling with 
wrath, and pointing menacingly to the prisoner. 

“ Silence, there, blabbing miscreant! ” thundered Patterson. 

“ Ah ! No wonder ye want silence, when that name is men¬ 
tioned,” returned Herriot, unflinchingly. 

Struck dumb with astonishment -at the unexpected audacity of 
the prisoner in thus throwing out, in open court, such bold and 
cutting intimations of their guilty conduct, the judges and officers 
seemed perfectly at a loss how to act, or give vent to their mad¬ 
dened feelings, for some moments. Soon, however, the most 
prompt and reckless among them found the use of their tongues. 

“ Shoot him down, Patterson ! ” exclaimed Brush, with an 
oath. 

“ Treason! I charge him with treason, and demand that he 
be ironed and gagged on the spot! ” shouted Gale, bringing down 
his clinched fist heavily on the desk before him! 

“ Yes, high treason ; let us re-arrest him, and see if we can 
hang him on that, should he escape on the other charge,” 
chimed in Stearns. 

“ I have my doubts,” began Chandler, who was growing every 
moment more wavering and uneasy. 

“ No doubts about it,” interrupted Sabin, almost choking with 
rage. “ I’ll not sit here and see the king’s authority insulted, and 
his court treated with such contempt and treasonable defiance ; 
and I order him instantly in irons — chains — yes, chains, Mr. 
Sheriff!” 

“ You can chain the body, but shall not fetter the tongue,” 
responded Herriot, in no way dismayed by the threats of his 
enraged persecutors, or their preparations to confine and torture 
his person ; “ for I ivill speak, and you shall hear, ye tyrants ! 
Listen then, ye red-handed assassins! The blood of your mur¬ 
dered victim has cried up to God for vengeance. The cry has 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


87 


been heard ! the unseen hand has already traced your doom 
on the wall! and this day, ay, within this hour,” he continued, 
glancing through the window to a dark mass of men, who might 
now be partially discerned drawn up behind the point of woods 
at the north — “ay, within this very hour, that doom shall be 
fulfilled ! Hark ! ” he added, in startling tones, after a momentary 
pause —“ hark ! do ye hear those signal guns, echoing from post 
to post, round your beleaguered Babylon ? Do you hear those 
shouts ? The avengers of blood are even now at your doors. 
Hear, and tremble ! ” 

As the speaker closed his bold denunciations, he descended 
from the bench which he had mounted for the purpose, and, ad¬ 
vancing to the sheriff and his assistants, now standing mute and 
doubtful with their hastily procured fetters in their hands, he 
paused, and stood confronting them with an ironical smile, and 
with folded arms, in token of his readiness now to submit himself 
to their hands. But a wonderful change had suddenly come 
over the whole band of these tory dignitaries. The dark and 
angry scowls of meditated revenge, and the more fiery expres¬ 
sions of undisguised wrath, which were bent on the dauntless old 
man during the first part of his denunciations, had, by the time 
he made his closing announcement, all given way to looks of 
surprise and apprehension. No one offered to lay hands on him; 
for, as the truth of what he said was every moment more strongly 
confirmed by the increasing tumult without, no one had any 
thoughts to spare for any but himself. And soon the whole 
assembly broke from their places, and, in spite of the loud calls 
of the officers for silence and order, began to cry out in eager 
inquiries, and run about the room in the utmost confusion and 
alarm. At this juncture, David Redding, who had been thus far 
the most reckless and bloodthirsty tory of all, burst into the room, 
hurriedly exclaiming,— 

“ The people have risen in arms, and are pouring in upon us, 
by hundreds, from every direction ! In five minutes this house 
will be surrounded, and we in their power. Let every man look 
to his own safety ! I shall to mine,” he added, rushing back 
down to the front door, where, instead of attempting to escape 
through the back way, as he might then have done, he began to 
shout, “ Hurra for Congress ! ” and, “ Down with the British 
court! ” at tlie very top of his voice. 

“ I resign my commission,” cned Chandler, jumping up in 
great trepidation. “ Let it be distinctly understood,” he repeated, 
raising his voice in his an.xiety to be heard — “yes, let it be dis- 



88 


THE RANGERS, 


tinctly understood, that I have resigned my commission as judge 
of this court.” 

“ D-n him! what does he mean by that ? ” muttered Gale, 

turning to Patterson. 

“It means he is going to turn tail, as I always thought he 
would, — the cursed cowardly traitor! ” replied the latter, gnashing 
his teeth. “ But let him, and that pitiful poltroon of a Redding, 
go where they please. We will see to matters ourselves. I don’t 
believe it is any thing more than a mere mob, who will scatter 
at the first fire. So follow me. Gale; and all the rest of ye, that 
aint afraid of your own shadows, follow me, and I’ll soon know 
what can be done.” 

And, while lawyers and suitors were hastily snatching up their 
papers, and all were making a general rush for the door, in the 
universal panic which had seized them, the boastful sheriff, 
attended by his assistants and the tiger-tempered Gale, pushed 
his way down stairs, shaking his sword over his head, and shout¬ 
ing with all his might,— 

“ To arms ! Every friend to the court and king, to arms! 
Stand to your guns there below, guards, and shoot down every 
rebel that attempts to enter! ” 

But, when he reached the front entrance, the spectacle which 
there greeted his eyes seemed to have an instant effect in cooling 
liis military ardor. There, to his dismay, he beheld drawn up, 
within thirty paces of the door, an organized and well-armed 
body of more than three hundred men; while small detachments, 
constantly arriving, were falling in on the right and left, and 
extending the wings round the whole building. And as the dis¬ 
comfited loyalist ran his eye along the line of the broad^breasted 
and fierce-looking fellows before him, and recognized among 
them the Huntingtons, the Knights, the Stevenses, the Baileys, 
the Brighams, the Curtises, and other stanch and leading patriots, 
from nearly every town bordering on the Connecticut, and saw 
the determined look and the indignant flashing of their counte¬ 
nances, he at once read not only the entire overthrow of his party 
in this section of the country, but the individual peril in which 
he, and his abettors in the massacre, now stood before an outraged 
and excited populace. 

“ What ails your men. Squire Sheriff.^ ” cried Barty Burt, 
now grown to a soldier in the ranks of the assailants, as he 
pointed tauntingly to the company of tory guards who had been 
stationed in the yard, but who now, sharing in the general panic, 
had thrown down their arms, and stood huddled together near 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


89 


the door; “ why don’t they pick up their shooting-irons, and 

blaze away at the ‘ d - d rebels' as I think I heard you order, 

just now ? ” 

“ And if that won’t ditter do,” exclaimed the well-known 
voice of Tom Dunning from another part of the ranks, “suppose 
you ditter read another king’s proclamation at us: no knowing 
but we might be ditter done for, entirely.” 

The sheriff waited to hear no more^ but hastily retreated into 
the house, followed by a shout of derisive laughter; and his 
place was the next moment occupied by Chandler, who bustled 
forward to the steps, and, in a flustered, supplicatory manner, 
asked leave to address his “ respected fellow-citizens." 

“ Short speeches, judge! ” impatiently cried Colonel Carpenter, 
who seemed, from his position on horseback among the troops 
and other appearances, to be chief in command—“ short speeches, 
if any. We have come here on a business which neither long 
speeches nor smooth ones will prevent us from executing.” 

The judge, however, could not afford to take this as a repulse ; 
and, with this doubtful license, he went on to say, that on hearing, 
in the morning, as he did with astonishment and horror, of the 
unauthorized proceedings of last night, he had denounced the 
outrage, in an address at the opening of the court; and not 
finding himself supported, he had resigned, and left his seat on 
the bench. 

“ And now,” he added in conclusion, “ being freed from the 
trammels of my oath of office, which have lately become so pain¬ 
ful to me, I feel myself again one of the people, and stand ready 
to cooperate with them in any measure required by the public 
welfare.” 

A very faint and scattering shout of applause, in two or three 
places, mingled with hisses and murmurs in others, was the only 
response with which this address was received. But even with 
this equivocal testimony of public feeling towards him, this despi¬ 
cable functionary felt gratified. “ I am safef said he to himself, 
with a long-drawn breath, as he descended the steps, to watch an 
opportunity to mingle with the party with whom he was now 
especially anxious to be seen, and to whom he was ready to say, 
in the words of the satirist, — 

“ I’m all submission, what you’d have me, make me; 

The only question is, sirs, will you take me ? ” 


At this moment a sash was thrown up, and the prisoner, 
riot, appeared at a window of the court-room above. 

8 * 


Hei' 



90 


THE RANGERS, 


“ I have been brought up here this morning,” he said, shaking 
bach his gray locks, and raising his stern, solemn voice to a pitch 
clearly audible to all in the grounds below — I have been 
brought here from my dungeon to answer to the charge of a foul 
crime ; and both my accusers and triers, fleeing even before any 
one appeared to pursue, have left their places, having neither 
tried nor condemned me. But scorning to follow their example, 
I now appear, to submit myself for a verdict, to the rightful 
source of all power — the people.” 

“ Neither will we condemn thee,” cried Knowlton, pursuing 
the scriptural thought of the other ; “ if thy accusers and judges 
have left thee uncondemned, thou shalt not be condemned by us ; 
at least not by me, who have long had my opinions of the charac¬ 
ter of this prosecution.” 

“ As also have I,” responded Captain Wright. “ I know some¬ 
thing of the witnesses, on whom, it is said, they depended to 
convict father Herriot; and I would not hang a dog on their testi¬ 
mony. I move, therefore, that we here pronounce a verdict of 
acquittal. Who says, ay ? ” 

“ Ay ! ” promptly responded a dozen voices ; and ‘‘ Ay ! ” the 
next instant rose in one loud, unanimous shout from the whole 
multitude. 

“ A thousand thanks to you, my friends, for your generous 
confidence in my innocence,” returned the old man with emotion ; 
“and, thank God, your confidence is not misplaced. 1 was for¬ 
merly guilty of much, which has cost me many bitter tears of 
repentance ; but there is no blood on my hands, and I will now 
return to my hermit hut, from which they dragged me, there to 
pray for the success of the good cause in which you are engaged, 
leaving to you what lesson shall be taught those Hamans who 
have filled these dungeons with the dying and wounded, now de¬ 
manding your care.” 

The effect of the old man’s closing hint was instantly visible 
on the multitude, who decided by acclamation to act upon it 
without delay ; and accordingly a score of resolute fellows were 
detached to proceed to the prisons, release their friends, and 
fill their places, for the present, with their murderous oppressors. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


91 




CHAPTER VIII. 


“-right represt, 

Will heave with the deep earthquake’s fierce unrest, 

Then fling, with fiery strength, the mountain from its breast.” 


When the besieged tories, who were now mosti/ crowded 
I together in the broad space on the lower floor, saw a column of 
I their assailants entering the front door, and advancing upon them 
I with levelled muskets to sacrifice them, as they supposed, on the 
I spot, they were seized with a fresh and uncontrollable panic, and 
made such a tremendous rush for the back entrance, that the 
only sentry who happened at that moment to be there, was, ii 
spite of all his threats to fire upon them, instantly borne down, or 
I thrust aside, by the living torrent that now burst through the door ; 

and before a force sufficient to stop tliem could reach the spot, 
I numbers had escaped into the adjoining fields, where, scattering 
^ in different directions, they commenced their disorderly flight, 
I with all the speed which their guilty terrors could lend them. 
I The next moment, however, as the cry that the tories were es¬ 
caping was raised, a hundred of their most fleet-footed opponents 
were seen leaping the fences into the fields, and giving chase to 
the frightened fugitives. A scene, in which the ludicrous, the 
novel, the wild, and the fearful, were strangely mingled, now en¬ 
sued ; for, although a strong guard still retained their places 
round the Court House, who, with the detachment that had en¬ 
tered as we have described, proceeded to take into custody the 
remaining tories and liberate the imprisoned, yet the main body 
of the revolutionists joined in the work of hunting down the flying 
enemy ; those not only who had escaped from the Court House 
I in the manner vve have named, but all concerned in the massa- 
ere that could be found secreted or lurking about the village ; 
while the exulting shouts of the victors as they overtook, seized, 

! and brought to the ground the vanquished ; the abject cries of 
i the latter for quarter; the reports of muskets fired by pursuers 
; over the heads of the pursued, to frighten them to surrender ; the 
beating of drums, and the loud clamor of mingling voices, — all 
combined to swell the uproar and confusion of the exciting scene 
1 “ How like the ditter deuse these lawyers do scratch gray- 






92 


THE RANGERS, 


el! ” exclaimed Tom Duiming, as he singled out and gave chase 
to Stearns and Knights, who together were making their way 
across the fields, in the direction of the river, as if life and death 
hung on their speed. “ Ha ! ha ! ” continued the tickled hunter, 
laughing so immoderately at the novel spectacle, as greatly to im¬ 
pede his own progress — “ ha ! ha ! ha ! ha! Why, I der don’t 
believe but what they’ve got consciences, after all! for what else 
could make their ditter drumsticks fly so ? ” 

But although the hunter, in thus indulging his merriment, suf¬ 
fered himself actually to lose ground in the race, yet he had no 
notion of relinquishing the chase, or losing the game ; for, con¬ 
scious of his own powers, and thinking lightly of those of the 
fugitives, he supposed, that, as soon as he chose to exert himself, 
he could easily make the race a short one, and as easily capture 
and lead them back in triumph ; and he began to think over the 
jokes he would crack at their expense on the way. But the un¬ 
seen event of the next moment showed him, to his vexation, that 
his inaction, and confidence in his own powers to remedy the 
consequences of it, had cost him all the anticipated pleasures of 
his expected victory. For scarcely had he commenced the pur¬ 
suit in earnest, when the fugitive lawyers reached the bank of 
the river, and at the very place too, as it provokingly happened, 
where his own log-canoe chanced to be moored, and hastily leap¬ 
ing into it, they managed with such dexterity and quickness, in 
handling the oars and cutting the fastenings, as to push off, and 
get fairly out of the reach of their pursuer, before he could gain 
the spot; and his threat to fire at them, if they did not return, 
and the execution of that threat the next moment, which sent a 
bullet skipping over the water within a foot of the receding canoe, 
as he only intended, were all without effect in compelling the 
return of the panic-struck attorneys. And the balked pursuer had 
soon the mortification to see his crafty brace of intended captives 
land in safety on the opposite shore, which he had now no means 
of gaining, and disappear in the dark pine forest then lining the 
eastern bank of the Connecticut at this place. 

“ Outwitted, by ditter Judas ! ” exclaimed the hunter, in his 
vexation. “ These lawyers, dog ’em ! they have so much of the 
Old Scratcher in ’em, that they will outdo a fellow at his own trade. 
However, I’ve done the new state some ditter service, I reckon, 
seeing I’ve fairly driven such a precious pair of ’em out of it.” * 


♦ Knights, who, unlike his companion, was no loyalist, appears to 
have become infected with the panic that had seized his loyal associates. 



93 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 

^ With this consolatoiy reflection, he now turned and retraced 
his steps towards the scene of action. While on his way thither, 
and soon after passing the rear of the building before described 
as the head-quarters of the tory leaders, his attention was arrested 
by the lamentable outcries of some one alternately bawling for 
help, and begging for mercy ; when, turning to the spot, he there 
beheld his associate, Barty Burt, astride the haughty owner of 
the mansion just named, who, with dress sadly soiled and disor¬ 
dered, was creeping on his hands and knees on the ground, towards 
his house, which, it appeared, he had nearly gained, when he was 
overtaken, thrown to the ground, and mounted by his agile and 
tormenting captor, who was now taking his whimsical revenge 
for former indignities, by compelling the fallen secretary, through 
the efficacy of a loaded pistol just wrenched from the latter’s 
hand, to carry him on his back, in the manner above described. 

“ What the dogs are you ditter doing there, Bart ? ” said Dun¬ 
ning, with a broad grin, as he came up and recognized the sec¬ 
retary in such a strange plight and attitude. 


in common with the whole court party; and, though he had no cause for 
alarm, fled with those who escaped from the Court House, on this memo¬ 
rable occasion. It is probable, that owing to his supposed interest in the 
continuance of the court, and consequent unwillingness to cooperate in 
the measures on foot to overthrow it, he was purposely kept in ignorance 
of the movements of the revolutionists, and therefore taken wholly by 
surprise when the storm burst. At all events, his speedy return, imme¬ 
diate resumption of his professional duties at Brattleborough, and subse¬ 
quent promotion to the bench, abundantly shows that he no less enjoyed 
the confidence of the American party than his two namesakes, and, we 
believe, relatives, whom we have named as present among the assailants, 
and who were afterwards officers in our revolutionary forces. An aged 
and distinguished early settler, to whom the author is indebted for many 
of the incidents he has here delineated, thus writes in relation to the par¬ 
ticular one in question : — 

“ I have heard Judge Samiiel Knights, who, as chief justice, presided 
in the Supreme Court from 1791 to 1793, describe the trepidation that 
seized them, when, after the massacre, and on the rising of the surrounvi- 
ing country, they came to learn the excited state of the populace. He 
related how he and another member of the bar (Stearns, I think, who was 
afterwards attorney secretary of Nova Scotia) hurried down to the river, 
and finding there a boat, (such as was used in those times for carrying 
seines or nets at the shad and salmon fishing grounds, which were fre¬ 
quent on both sides the river, below the Great Falls,) they paddled them¬ 
selves across, and lay all day under a log in the pine forest opposite the 
town ; and, when night came, went to Parson Fessenden’s, at Walpole, 
and obtained a horse, so that, by riding and tying, they got out of the 
country till the storm blew over, when Knights returned to Brattle-* 
borough.” 



94 


THE RANGERS, 


“ 0, nothin very desput; only showing Squire Brush, here 
the differ between to-day and yesterday, that’s all,” replied Bart, 
kicking and spurring, like a boy on some broken-down horse. 
“Get up, here ! Gee! whoa, Dobbin! Kinder*seems to me,” 
he continued to his groaning prisoner—“ kinder seems tome I 
heard somebody say, ’tother night, that Bart Burt wasn’t above a 
jackass. Wonder if I aint above a jackass now ? only his ears 
may need pulling and stretching a little,” he added, suiting the 
action to the word. 

“ For God’s sake, my good man,” said Brush, turning im¬ 
ploringly to Dunning, “ do relieve me from the clutches of this 
insatiate imp of hell. Let him shoot me, if he will; but don’t 
leave me to be worried, and trod into the mud and splosh, like a 
dog, by the revengeful young savage. It is more than flesh and 
blood can bear.” 

“ Well, now, squire, I wouldn’t make such a tearing fuss 
about this little bit of a walloping, after what’s happened, if I was 
you,” said Bart. “ There was our differ about who was the jack¬ 
ass, and sich like, that night, you know, which I kinder thought 
I might as well settle; and then, again, there was your good-by, 
yesterday; but may be I’ve done enough to make that square, 
too. So I don’t care if I let you up, now, seeing as how Mr. 
Dunning has come to take care of your worship,” added the 
speaker, springing nimbly a few paces aside, and facing about 
with presented pistol, as if to keep the other on good behavior. 

“ What can you want with me, sir.^ ” said the disencumbered 
secretary to the hunter, after gaining his feet and shaking off the 
mud from his bedraggled garments. 

“ Ditter considerable,” replied the other. “ In the first place, 
the people want to see you back to the Court House, where you 
may ditter consider yourself invited to go, under my care. They 
there may have the first claim on you.” 

“ Well, if I am a prisoner, let us go there, then,” said the 
crestfallen loyalist, relinquishing, with bad grace, his hope of 
being allowed to escape. “ But what do you mean hy first claim 
on me } ” 

“ Well, I ditter mean that I have another, when they get 
through with you.”' 

“ Explain yourself, sir.” 

“ I will. You ditter know that your governor has offered a 
reward of fifty pounds for the ditter delivery of Ethan Allen for 
the gallows, under a law got through the York Assembly, princi¬ 
pally by one Squire Brush. Well, I aint a going to ditter fight old 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


95 


Ethan’s battles ; for he can der do that himself. But you may 
ditter know, also, that Ethan has offered the same reward for the 
governor and you. Now, as we are ditter expecting Allen over 
liere, in a few days, I was der thinking, I and Bart, here, might 
as well ditter deliver you up, and claim the money.” * 

So saying, the hunter, bidding the prisoner to follow, and Bart 
to bring up the rear, marched off in triumph to the Court House ; 
and, having delivered over his charge to the guard at the prison 
doors, sallied out into the village in quest of further adventures. 
Nor was lie long in meeting with them. After gaining the street, 
he soon perceived a gathering and commotion nearly in front of 
the mansion whose owner he had just taken from the rear ; and, 
on reaching the spot, he found a crowd collected round a sleigh, 
filled with gentlemen and ladies, which proved to be that of 
Peters and his company. It appeared that Haviland, who had 
remained at his quarters that forenoon, and had thus become ap¬ 
prised of the rising of the people sooner than the mass of his 
party, had instantly ordered the team to be harnessed, and every 
thing prepared for an immediate departure, as soon as Peters 
should arrive. And the latter, who was among those who broke 
away from the Court House after it was invested, having at 
length reached the house undiscovered, and adopted such disguise 
in dress as the time would permit, they had all jumped into the 
sleigh, (which could still be used better than any other vehicle,) 
and were rapidly driving from the yard, in an attempt to escape 
from the town, when they were recognized and detained by a 
party of the revolutionists. Haviland and Peters had already 
been seized and taken from the sleigh, and would have instantly 
been forced off to prison, but for the entreaties and distress of the 
females, who refused to be conducted back to the house, or even 
to be separated from their protectors ; Miss Haviland, especially, 
declaring that if her father must go to prison, she would go with 
him. This had produced a momentary delay, during which a 
sharp altercation had arisen, some being for taking the prisoners 
back to the house, there to be guarded, and others strongly in¬ 
sisting on dragging them off, at once, to jail. The latter,.at 
length, appeared to prevail, and were on the point of forcing the 


* Creaii Brush, who procured himself to be elected from this county 
to the New York legislature, for several years, was believed to be the 
main mover of the act of outlawry against Ethan Allen and others. He 
certainly, as chairman of the committee on the subject, reported, and 
recommended the passage of, that notorious measure. [See Slade's 
State Papers.] ^ 



96 


THE RANGERS, 


ladies, in spite of all their entreaties, from the sides of their' 
protectors, when a man came pushing his way through the 
crowd : — 

“For shame! shame! my friends,” he cried; “ you surely 
would not molest innocent and defenceless females.” 

“ I will tell you what it is, Harry Woodburn,” responded one 
of those who were for proceeding to active measures, “ when 
ladies attempt to stand between murderers and their deserts, they 
must expect to be molested.” 

The circumstances of the case were then explained to Wood- 
burn ; when the crowd, who had been irritated by the threats and 
arrogant behavior of the prisoners, at the outset, again began to 
cry, “ Away with them, women and all, if they will have it so — 
avvay with them to prison ! ” 

“Men, hear me!” exclaimed Woodburn, planting himself 
between the ladies and the angry crowd. “ You see this! ” he 
continued, holding up his bandaged and blood-stained arm: “ the 
wound was received in defending your cause ; and I have but 
this moment come from the felon’s hole, where I passed the 
night, for the part I took in the affray. Now, have I not earned 
the right to be heard ? ” 

“ Ay, ay, certainly, Harry ; go on ! ” responded several, while 
the silence of the rest denoted a ready acquiescence in the 
request. 

“ This, then, is what I would say,” resumed the former. 
“ These ladies, who are doubtless anxious to escape from a scene 
of strife which may not yet be ended, came from a distance, 
under the care of this old gentleman, whose imprisonment would 
not only take from them their protector, but deprive them, proba¬ 
bly, of all present means of returning to their home. I propose, 
therefore, to let him and them depart unmolested.” 

“ If the ladies were all — but I don’t know about letting this 
old fellow off so^ easily,” said one, exchanging doubtful glances 
with those around him. “ He is both tory and Yorker to the 
eyes.” 

“Yes,” urged another, “ and who knows but he was among the 
murderers last night ? ” 

“ I have ascertained that he was not among the actors of last 
night’s outrage,” replied Woodburn. 

“Well,” rejoined the former, “ I know the other was — that 
upper-crust tory by his side there, who was always too proud to 
wear an old coat and hat, till he thought they might help him in 
skulking away out of the reach of punishment.” 


OR TilK Tory’s DAUGIITRii. 


97 


“ I know Peters was there, to my cost; and I had no notio^r of 
asking any exemption for him,” returned Woodburn, with bitter¬ 
ness. “ But this old gentleman, whatever may be his feelings, 
has committed none of those acts of violence, for which, only, I. 
understand, our leaders intend to institute trials. Shall we not, 
then, let him and his ladies proceed, as I proposed ? ” 

Receiving no direct answer to his appeal, the speaker now took 
two or three of the leading opposers aside, and, after conversing 
with them a few moments, returned, and announced to Haviland 
that he was at liberty to depart. 

How well and wisely had he read the human heart, who penned 
the scriptural apothegm, “ If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; 
if he thirst, give him drink ; for, in so doing, thou shalt heap 
coals of fire on his head ” ! Haviland, though by nature an hon¬ 
orable man, had yet snfTered himself to enter deeply into the per¬ 
sonal animosit'es of Peters towards Woodburn, which, with his 
political and aristocratic prejudices, had caused him to think of 
the young man only with feelings of contempt and bitterness. 
And when he witnessed the noble conduct of the latter, first in 
rescuing his daughter from the flood, and now so generously in¬ 
terposing in his behalf, it produced that struggle between pride 
and conscience, whose operation is so forcibly expressed by tho 
sacred writer just quoted. And, although he could bring himself 
to acknowledge his obligations only by a formal and constrained 
bow, yet the conflicting and painful expressions that were seen 
flitting over his disturbed countenance, as he now returned to the 
sleigh, plainly told how eflectually, and with what punished feel¬ 
ings, his enmity had been silenced. But not so with his single- 
minded and quickly and justly appreciating daughter. She had 
no prejudices to combat, no pride to conquer; and she, therefore, 
' witnessed each new act of her deliverer with a^ much pleasure 
as gratitude — feelings which sought expression in no parade of 
words, it is true, but in the more meaning and eloquent language 
of the kindly tone and sweetly-beaming countenance. And, in 
I her low-murmured, “ Thank you — thank you for allf as Wood- 
1 burn handed her to her seat in the vehicle, he felt a thousand fold 
' repaid for all he had ventured for her sake; while the speaking 
! smile, with which she the next moment turned to him, and nodded 
I her adieu, left an impress on his heart destined never to be 
I effaced. 

! While this was transpiring, Peters, who had been standing apart 
' from the rest of his company, sullenly looking on, without uttering 
' D word, except to bid Haviland go on without him, contrived, with- 
9 



98 


THE KAiNGERS, 


out exciting any suspicion of his design, to work himself by de’ 
grees to the outer edge of the crowd, in the direction in which 
the team was about to pass. And, as the sleigh, which was now 
put in motion, approached him, he made a sudden feint of running 
the opposite way; when, as the crowd were confusedly springing 
forward to head him, he quickly tacked about, leaped into the 
sleigh, and, snatching the reins and whip from Haviland’s hands, 
applied the lash so furiously, that the frantic horses bounded for¬ 
ward with a speed which carried the receding vehicle more than 
fifty yards on its course, before the balked and confused throng 
could recover themselves, and fairly comprehend what had hap¬ 
pened. But the sharp, bitter shout of execrations, mingled with 
cries for immediate pursuit, which now rose from the agitated 
multitude, proclaimed at once their hatred of the haughty loyalist, 
and their determination not to suffer him to escape from justice 
And the next instant, a half dozen swift runners, led on by Dun¬ 
ning, shot out from the crowd, in the eager chase, like so many 
arrows speeding to the mark. And, notwithstanding the supposed 
advantages of horses over men in a race, and notwithstanding 
the increased speed with which the fugitive team thundered along 
over the half-bare and uneven ground, the pursued had scarcely 
reached the end of a furlong, before the fleet and determined 
hunter, still in advance of his companions, gained the side of the 
sleigh, leaped up, pounced upon his cringing victim, and brought 
him headlong to the ground, leaving Haviland to seize the relin¬ 
quished reins, check the horses as he best could, and proceed on 
his way unmolested. 

“ There ! you ditter sneak of a runaway tory. You will now 
go, I der rather calculate, where there’s no ditter petticoats to 
shelter you,” said Dunning, raising the chapfallen Peters by the 
collar, and drawing him along back, amidst the exulting shouts of 
the revolutionists, by whom he and his friend Brush were then 
forced away, in no very gentle manner, to join their fellow-pris¬ 
oners, in the same dungeon where the victims of their last night’s 
outrage were so unfeelingly and so unwisely immured. 

A detailed description of the various scenes which here suc¬ 
ceeded, in the winding up of this local revolution, as it may justly 
be denominated, would occupy too much space for the limits of 
our talQ, without evolving any further incident, having much 
bearing on the destinies of those of its personages whose fortunes 
we design to follow. We will now, therefore, sum up, in a few 
words, the doings of the triumphant party, and, with a comment 
or two of our own, dismiss the subject. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


99 


In the first place, all the supposed actors and abettors of the 
massacre within reach were seized and secured, excepting Red¬ 
ding and one or two others of a like character, who, by theii 
activity in assisting to apprehend the fugitive comrades whom 
they had so meanly deserted, and their offers to give evidence 
against them, had purchased an exemption from punishment, and 
excepting also the Janus-faced Chandler, who, by his duplicity, 
liad contributed more than any other man, perhaps, towards this 
catastrophe, but who now contrived to make even his iniquities 
count in his favor.* After this was effected, the victors, all but 
enough to constitute a safe guard, laid aside their arms, and re- x 
solved themselves into a sort of civil convention, to take measures 
for the trial of the prisoners by some mode, which, in the absence 
of all proper authorities, should answer for a legal process. And, 
as the first step in the matter, a jury of inquest, to sit on the dead 
body of French, was ordered, and a committee appointed to see 
to the empanelling of impartial men, and collect evidence and 
conduct the investigations to be had before them. All this being 


* As the acts of this notorious personage, whose character we have heen 
at considerable pains to ascertain, and accordingly portray, will have no 
further connection with our stor^', we cannot forbear, before dismissing 
him entirely, gmng the reader a short account of his subsequent career, 
and singular end. Although, by his facility of accommodating his politi¬ 
cal principles to those of the majority, and his alacrity of tacking about, 
and mounting, like a squirrel on a wheel, so as to be found rising to the 
top in every revolution or counter-revolution of public sentiment, he thus 
adroitly managed to get appointed to some offices of minor importance, 
under the new state government, yet, becoming every year better and bet¬ 
ter understood, and consequently more and more distrusted, he finally 
sunk into utter insignificance and contempt; and, falling into pecuniary 
enffiarrassments, brought about by a long course of secret fraud in selling 
wild lands, of which he had no titles, he was confined for debt in the very 
building in which the massacre occurred ; where, as if by the retribution 
of Heaven for the part he once there acted, he soon died, unhonored and 
unlamented. And, what is still more remarkable, his remains were 
strangely destined to be denied even the respect of a common burial. 
For some exasperated creditor having attached the body, and the neigh¬ 
bors, from a notion that prevailed at that time, supposing, that by remov¬ 
ing the body for a public burial they would make themselves liable for his 
debts, suffered it to remain till it became too offensive to be endured, 
when, at the dark hour of midnight, a few individuals went silently to 
the prison, got the putrid mass into some rough box, and drew it on the 
ground to the fence of the neighboring burial-^ound; and, having dug a 
norizontal trench under the fence, and a deep pit on the other side, pushed 
through and buried up all that remained of the once noted Chief Justice 
Chandler. An old, decayed oak stump, still standing, is the only object 
that marks the site of las grave. 





100 


THE RANGEKS, 


duly accomplished, and the jury bringing in a verdict that the de¬ 
ceased came to his death by the discharges of muskets, in the 
hands of Patterson, Gale, and others therein enumerated, all the 
latter, thus designated as the murderers of the unfortunate young 
man, were taken, and, under the authority of another order or 
decree of the convention, marched off, under a strong guard, to 
the jail in Northampton, some forty or fifty miles into the inte¬ 
rior of Massachusetts, and there confined, to be tried for their lives 
at the next court that should be holden in the county where tlie 
offence was committed ; while a less deeply implicated portion of 
the prisoners were put under bonds to appear at the court to an¬ 
swer to the charges of manslaughter and assault, or made to un¬ 
dergo other punishments and restrictions immediately imposed by 
the convention.* The actors in the outrage, who comprised near¬ 
ly all the leading members of the British party in that part of the 
Grants lying east of the mountains, having been thus summarily 
disposed of, the people, now taking the government into their own 
hands, and acting in primitive assembly, proceeded to reorganize 
the county, by the appointment of new judges, and all the usual 
subordinate officers, of their own principles, to adopt measures to 
reduce to submission or drive away the remaining loyalists of the 
county, and, finally, to declare themselves alike independent of 
the government of Great Britain and of New York. 

Thus terminated this memorable outbreak, which acquired 
additional importance from the fact, that it resulted in the entire 
subversion of British authority in this, the only section among the 
Green Mountains where it ever gained a foothold. And not 
small the praise, which, in view of the circumstances, should be 
awarded to the hardy spirits by whom this miniature revolution 
was achieved ; for, so great was the power of patronage exercised 
by this court, and the influence of those enjoying office or immu¬ 
nities under it, — a great majority of whom were stanch, and the 
rest tacit, supporters of the royal cause, — that, till the occurrence 
of this sanguinary affair, it is evident the former had but little 

* Among the different kinds of sentences imposed on the class of of¬ 
fenders here last named, was one dooming Judge Sabin to the limits of 
his own farm, and making it lawful for any one catching him off of it to 
kill him. And so deep was the public indignation against this inveterate 
loyalist and supposed secret abettor of the massacre, that he was narrowly 
watched for the chance of executing the penalty. An aged revolutionist, 
from whom this fact was derived, stated that he had lain many a Sunday, 
with a loaded rifle, in the woods near the judge’s farm lines, to see if ha 
would not, when coming out to salt his sheep, stray over his limits. But 
the old fellow, he said, was always too wary for him. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


101 


hope of being able to overthrow this petty local dynasty without 
assistance from abroad. The aged survivors of that stormy 
period inform us, indeed, that but for the massacre of Westmin¬ 
ster, it would have been difficult to predict whether the opening 
of the revolution, a few months afterwards, would have found, 
in the section in question, a whig or tory majority predominating. 
But that act of murder and madness, which the loyalists here, 
with the strange infatuation attending their doings almost every 
where else at the time, seemed destined to commit, as if to hasten 
their own overthrow, settled their doom. 

“ It was the electric flame to fire the hearts 
Of a true people.” 

And while it opened the eyes of hundreds of the hitherto 
acquiescent, it armed the opposing with an energy and deter¬ 
mination in their cause, which at once became irresistible ; and 
when the war-note was subsequently sounded by such patriots as 
Benjamin Carpenter and his associates, it found a ready response 
in every glen and corner of the surrounding country, and the 
hardy settlers seized their arms, and, with the cry of French and 
vengeance ! hastened away to the scenes of action at Lexington, 
Ticonderoga, and Bunker Hill. 

We are aware that some historians have classed this affair 
among the difficulties and skirmishes growing out of what has 
usually been termed the New York controversy, while others 
have treated the subject in a manner which shows them to be 
doubtful in what light to place the transaction ; and, for that 
reason apparently, they have slid over the matter in those gen¬ 
eral and ambiguous terms so often and reprehensibly indulged in 
by writers at a loss about facts, to conceal their own ignorance, 
or to avoid the responsibility of deciding the point at issue. But 
a careful examination of the subject has led us to the conclusion, 
that the affair in question had little or no connection, in reality, 
with the New York controversy, but that it was wholly of a rev¬ 
olutionary character. No resistance to the authority of New 
York had ever been previously made in this section of the Grants ; 
nor did the opposers of this court, in any of their remonstrances, 
or other proceedings, either before or after the massacre, assign 
any reason for their doings which can be fairly construed into 
an objection to the jurisdiction of that province, as such ; or any 
otherwise than that it had, up to that time, refused to adopt the 
resolves and recommendations of the Continental Congress. On 
tho contrary, all their arguments are based on their duty and 


102 


THE RANGERS, 


determination of joining their revolting brethren in the other colo* 
nies, and, consequently, of resisting; the longer continuance of 
British authority among them. Such, indeed, is the ground taken 
by Dr. Jones, in his minute and authentic account of the 
occurrence, in which he was, as we have made him in our illus¬ 
trations, an actor. And even the inscription on the tombstone of 
the ill-fated French, written when the transaction, and all its 
attendant circumstances, were fresh in the minds of all, sufficiently 
proves, if further proof were necessary, that the version we have 
given of the affair is identical with the one generally understood 
and received at the time.”* 

It was this view of the occurrence which led us to occupy th& 
space we have devoted in attempting to illustrate it; for it be¬ 
comes invested with a new interest and new importance, when it 
is considered, as we think it must be, that here was enacted the 
first scene of the great drama that followed ; here was shed the 
first blood, and here fell the first martyr, of the American revolu¬ 
tion. 


* The inscription here alluded to, which we insert as supporting our 
position rather than as affording any new antiquarian curiosity to many 
readers, is verbatim as follows : — 

“ In memory of William French, son of Mr. Nathaniel French, 

Who was shot at Westminster March y® 13th 1775 by the hand» 
of Cruel Ministerial tools of George y® 3d, in the Court 
House, at 11 o’clock at night, in the 22d year of his age. 

“ Here William French his Body lies 
For murder his blood for vengeance cries 
King George the third, his tory crew 
Tha with a bawl his head shot threw 
For liberty and his country’s good 
He lost his life and dearest blood." 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


103 


CHAPTER IX. 


They sank till their fair land became a sty 
Stygian with moral darkness. Heart and mind 
Debased — dark passions rose, and with red eye. 
Rushed to their revel; until Freedom, blind 
And maniac, sought the rest the suicide would find." 


The traveller of the present day, as he enters the town of 
Guilford, on the southern confines of Vermont, will soon be 
struck with the peculiar appearance of many things around him. 
Few or no traces of a primitive forest are to be seen, while its 
place is supplied by a heavy second growth of woods, sixty or 
seventy years old, in the midst of which the remains of old en¬ 
closures and other indications of former habitations are not unfre- 
quently observable. On the cleared farms, also, may often be 
seen three or four different clumps of aged fruit-trees, scattered 
about in the nooks and corners of the lot, and sometimes extend¬ 
ing into the woods, in such a manner as to preclude the idea that 
they could have been planted under any thing like the present 
arrangements of the farm and its buildings. Near these old rel¬ 
ics of former orchards may likewise generally be perceived some 
levelled spot, remains of old chimneys, traces of cellars, or other 
^marks of dwellings long since removed, or fallen to decay. 
These, with many other peculiarities, give to the whole town an 
aspect nowhere else to be seen in_ Vermont, nor even, perhaps, 
in any part of New England. And if the traveller be of a fanci¬ 
ful turn, he will associate the place with the idea of some deserted 
country, resettled by a new race of men ; and even if he be a 
mere matter-of-fact man, he cannot fail to perceive that the town 
must have been originally tenanted under a division of lands and 
an order of things quite different from those now existing. And 
either of these suppositions would be far better justified by the 
facts than most of the speculations of modern tourists made in 
their flying visits through the land, as will be seen by a recur¬ 
rence to the early annals of this town, of which, for the purpose 
of insuring a full understanding of some scenes here about to be 
described, we must be permitted to give a brief outline. 

The events connected with the first settlement of the town of 
Guilford, which afterwards became so noted as the stronghold of 




104 


THE RANGERS, 


toryism and adherence to the New York supremacy, form a curi¬ 
ous anomaly even in the anomalous history of Vermont. The 
territory comprising this township appears to have been granted, 
as early as 1754, to a company of about fifty persons, by a char¬ 
ter, which, unlike that of any other town, empowered the propri¬ 
etors, in express terms, to govern themselves and regulate the 
concerns of their little community, by such laws as the majority 
should be pleased to enact, without being made amenable to any 
power under heaven, save that which might be exercised by the 
British Parliament. Being thus constituted a band of freemen 
and legislators, at the outset, they soon took possession of their 
chartered piece of wilderness, organized by the election of the 
proper officers of state, and assumed the title of an independent 
republic, which their charter, in fact, created, any control of the 
Parliament of England being as little to be apprehended, in their 
p-^cluded retreat among the wilds of the Green Mountains, as that 
of the Great Mogul of Tartary. And as novel as was the idea 
of a republic at that early period, when “ the divine right of 
kings ” to govern all men was as little questioned as the divine 
right of Satan to afflict the pious Job of old, this enterprising little 
band of settlers, for many years, appear to have well sustained 
the character they had assumed, not only by carrying out, in all 
their public doings, that essential principle of a republic which 
makes the will of the majority supreme, but by the simplicity of 
their tastes and habits in private life, and their beautiful exempli¬ 
fication of the great law of love, that can only be fulfilled to¬ 
wards our neighbors by according to them equal rights and 
privileges with ourselves. At length, however, new doctrines 
began to prevail, and the independent character of our little re¬ 
public was soon, in a good degree, forfeited ; and that, too, by the 
very means, it would seem, which had been taken to make it 
flourish and increase. It had been one of the conditions of the 
charter that every grantee should become an actual settler, and, 
within five years, clear and cultivate five acres of land, for every 
fifty purchased. And in accordance with this cunning policy for 
insuring the actual and rapid settlement of the place, the town¬ 
ship had been laid out in fifty and one hundred acre lots, except 
the governor’s right of five hundred acres, which his excellency 
of New Hampshire, in granting Vermont lands, never forgot to 
reserve for his own use, in every township, but which the propri¬ 
etors generally contrived, as in this instance, to have set oft' on 
the highest mountain in town, considering it but respectful and 
fitting, as they used waggishly to observe, that so elevated a per. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


105 


sonage should be honored with the most elevated location. And 
the effect of this policy, together with the low prices at which the 
lands were put, and other inducements held out to draw in set¬ 
tlers, soon became visible in the rapid increase of the population, 
and consequent improvement of the town. So unexampled in 
these new settlements was its progress, indeed, in both the par¬ 
ticulars we have just named, that within twenty years from the 
time when the sound of the axe was first heard in its woody lim¬ 
its, the inhabitants were found to number nearly three thousand ; 
while fields were every where opened in the wilderness, and 
buildings raised in such neighborly contiguity, that the whole 
town presented the appearance of a continuous village. It is not 
very surprising, therefore, that, through such an influx of settlers, 
coming from all parts of the country, and including many in¬ 
terested and active partisans of the York jurisdiction, a majority 
should soon be obtained, who were induced to depart from the 
views of the first settlers respecting the independence of their 
community, and adopt the more fashionable form of subordinate 
government, which prevailed in all the towns around them. And 
accordingly we find them, at their annual meeting in 1772, voting 
the district of Guilford, as they termed it, to belong to the county 
of Cumberland and province of New York, and thereupon pro¬ 
ceeding to reorganize the town, agreeably to the laws of that 
province. This change, however, does not appear to have been 
followed by any material alteration of their internal polity, or to 
have been productive of any great civil discord, till about the 
time of the opening of the American revolution; w'hen the 
town became the prey of contending factions, of so fierce and 
lawless a character as to convert this once Arcadian abode of 
virtue, simplicity, and rural happiness, into a theatre of violence 
and social disorganization, which never, perhaps, found a parallel 
within the limits of order-loving New England. Sometimes the 
York party and tories, — for, in this town, it so happened that the 
two were identical, — and sometimes the whigs and friends of the 
new state of Vermont, were in the ascendant; while scenes of 
such disorder and outrage were constantly occurring between the 
belligerent parties, that his honor. Judge Lynch, for many years, 
appears to have been not the least among the potentates of this 
notable republic. Nor was order restored to the ill-starred town 
till after the close of the war ; when every refractory spirit, 
whether tory or Yorker, was punished or awed into submission 
by the fiery energy of the iron-heeled Ethan Allen, who, then 
being relieved from the pursuit of more important game, camo 


106 


THE RANGERS, 


thundering down upon the town with his hundred Green Mountain 
Boys, proclaiming to the disaffected, with demonstrations which 
they well knew how .to interpret, that the peaceable and instant 
submission of the place to the new authorities of the land should 
alone save it from being “ made as desolate as the cities of Sod¬ 
om and Gomorrah.'" 

Jt was a dark and gloomy day in April, and the sleety storm 
was beating, in fitful gusts, against the broken and creaking case¬ 
ments, and the disjointed, loose, and leaky covering of an old, di¬ 
lapidated log-house, standing by the road-side, in one of the thou¬ 
sand little dales, which, with their corresponding hills, so beauti¬ 
fully diversify the face of the town we have been describing. But 
as comfortless as this miserable hut was, and as poor and insuffi- 
cent a protection from the elements as it afforded, even for the 
healthy and robust, it was now the only shelter of a sick and des¬ 
titute woman, the widowed mother of Harry Woodburn. The 
hand of her son’s persecutor, as it not unfrequently is seen to 
occur in the history of human oppression, was destined to fall 
even more heavily on her than on him for whom the blow was 
designed. The minion officer, selected by Peters for the purpose, 
had no sooner received his warrants, than, faithful to the cruel 
instructions of his employer, he had repaired post-haste to the 
residence of the absent Woodburn, of which he was authorized 
to take possession, and, with insults and abuse, rudely thrust the 
lone and unprotected occupant out of doors, in despite of all her 
entreaties for mercy, or delay till her son should return, or even 
for one day, to give her an opportunity to find some shelter for her 
now houseless head. He then, with the aid of the three or four 
ruffian assistants enlisted to accompany him, threw all the furni¬ 
ture out of the windows or doors into the mud and snow beneath 
where the whole, consisting of crockery and glasses, now half 
broken by the fall, and beds, linen, kettles, chairs, tables, and 
the like, soon lay piled promiscuously together. Having thus 
driven the terrified and distressed woman from the comfortable 
abode which had formerly cost her and her deceased husband 
so many years of toil to erect and furnish, and having, to add to 
the wrong, either injured or destroyed the greater part of her 
little stock of goods, by the wanton or careless manner in whi<;h 
they haa been removed, this brutal officer next proceeded to the 
barn, and by virtue of his capias for costs, seized the cow and 
oxen, the last remaining property of the wronged and ruined 
young man, which, after intrusting the present keeping and 


OR IKE Tory’s daughter. 


107 


defence of the premises to two of his band, lie drove away to 
another part of the town, to be sold at the post, as soon as the 
forms of the law, respecting notice of the sale, could be complied 
with. The poor widow, half distracted at being thus suddenly 
bereft of house and home, spent the remainder of the day in 
vainly endeavoring to procure some tenement into which she 
could remove with her furniture, or with so much of it as might 
yet be saved. On the next day, however, as a last resort, she 
obtained and accepted the present use of the deserted cabin we 
have described, situated but a short distance from the house from 
which she had been ejected. And into this comfortless place, 
after several days of incessant toil and exposure, she succeeded 
in getting her damaged furniture, but not till her exertions, com¬ 
bined with her anxieties and grief, had given rise to a malady, 
which, though not at first very threatening, became, each subse¬ 
quent day, more and more alarmingly developed in her overtasked 
system. In this situation she was found by her son, who, being 
entirely ignorant that any judgment had passed against him, and, 
consequently, little dreaming what was taking place at home, had 
remained at Westminster nearly a week after the massacre, 
attending the public meetings, which, as we have before inti¬ 
mated, followed that event; when he returned to Guilford, and, 
with feelings bordering on desperation, learned the extent of his 
misfortunes. But the bitterness of his feelings, as great as it was, 
at being stripped of all his property through such a series of 
wrongs, soon became wholly merged in anxiety and grief for his 
sick and sorrow-stricken parent, and in the exasperating thought 
that her sickness and suffering proceeded from the same source 
with his other injuries. And close and unremitting had been his 
attentions to her, until the day previous to the one on which we 
have introduced her to the reader ; when he had been induced to 
leave for Brattleborough, or other more distant towns, to try to 
obtain money to redeem his stock, which was now about to be 
sold, and which was worth more than double the amount, as he 
had recently ascertained, of the execution on which it had been 
seized. On the morning after his departure, she had become so 
much worse that she was compelled to take to her bed, and 
despatch her only attendant for a doctor. That attendant was 
Barty Burt, who had come down from Westminster with Wood- 
burn, and had been engaged by the latter to remam with his 
mother during his absence. Having thus glanced over the events 
which had occurred previously to the opening of this new scene 
of our story, we will now return to the point we left to make the 
digression. 


108 


THE RANGERS, 


/ 


Slowly, to the siifTering invalid, rolled the sad hours away, as, 
with thick and labored breathing, she lay tossing upon her rude 
couch, standing behind a blanket-screen, in one corner of her 
cheerless abode. Occasionally she would raise her fevered head 
from the pillow, and seem to listen to catch the sounds of expected 
footsteps, and her languid eye would turn anxiously towards the 
door; when, after thus exerting her senses in vain a few moments, 
she would sink back upon her bed, with a long-drawn, sighing 
groan, which told alike of disappointment and bodily anguish. 
At length, however, footsteps were heard approaching, the door 
opened, and Barty Burt stilly glided into the apartment, and 
approached the bedside of the sufferer. 

“ You have come at last, then,” said she, lifting her dim eyes 
to meet the face of the other. “ It seemed as if you never would 
arrive. But where is the doctor ? ” 

“ He will be on afore long, mistress; but I’ve had a time on’t 
in getting round, I tell ye ! ” replied Bart. 

“ I am very sorry, if you have had any unexpected trouble on 
my account,” meekly observed the invalid; “ but what has be¬ 
fallen you ? ” 

“ O, nothin,” answered the former — “ nothin, at least, but 
what I was willing to bear for Harry’s sake, who invited me home 
here till I got business, or for yours, who let me be. Though 
to be stopped and bothered, when one is going for the doctor, is 
worse than I ever thought of humans before. But it shows their 
character — dum’em ! ” 

“ Did they really stop you, knowing your errand ” 

“ Yes, that they did, mistress. As I w'as going by the tavern, 
a mile or two up the road yonder, three or four of them torified 
Yorkers came out, and told me I couldn’t go for the doctor, nor 
nowhere else, without a pass from one of their committee. So I 
had to post back more than half way, to Squire Ashcrafts, and 
there had to be questioned a long while before he would give me 
any pass at all. And then again, when I got to the doctor’s, he 
said he wanted a pass, too; for he darsent go to see a whig 
woman without one, which I must go and get him from Squire 
Evans, another committee man. Well, finding there was no 
other way to get him started, I went, feeling all the time just be¬ 
tween crying and fighting. And as soon as I got the bit of paper 
into the doctor’s hands, I put for home, leaving him fixing to come 
horseback, which is the reason of my getting here first.” 

“ These are, indeed, dreadful times,” sighed the widow. “ But 
they cannot always remain *, for, though God may chastise us a 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


109 


while for our sins, yet the rods of the oppressors will surely be 
broken.” 

“ Pd rather see their necks broken,” responded Hart, dryly. 
“ When we left Westminster, I thought, as much as cojld be, the 
tories were all used up ; but I find ’em down here thicker than 
ever now, and as sarcy and spiteful as a nest of yellow jackets, 
that, like them, have been routed in one place and got fixed in 
another. Blast their picturs, how I hate ’em ! ” 

“ That is not right, Barty. You should love your enemies. 
Evil wishes, towards those who injure us, are both wicked and 
foolish.” 

“ 1 don’t understand, mistress.” 

“ Why, Barty, to love is to be happy, as far as circumstances 
will permit; and to hate is but to feel disquieted and miserable. 
So when we keep the command to love our enemies, we obtain a 
reward which often outbalances the evil they inflict on us, or, at 
least, enables us the better to bear it; while, on the contrary, 
when we hate those who injure us, we receive a double evil — 
the wrong they inflict, and. the unhappiness created by the ex¬ 
ercise of our revengeful passions. Did you ever think of that, 
Barty ? ” 

“ No, mum ; Harry talks kinder that way, sometimes; but I 
can’t understand it, no how.” 

“ With your means of moral instruction, perhaps it is not sur¬ 
prising that you should not; so I will drop the subject, and ask you 
if you heard any thing of Harry, while you were gone.” 

“ No, mistress ; didn’t see nobody that knew he <vas gone.” 

“ O, when will he return ? He has now been gone two long, 
long days ; but I must not repine.” 

Why, mistress, I kinder guess he’ll be along to-night, unless 
so be he’s met with considerable bother to get the money, or 
somethin. He must be here afore to-morrow afternoon, when 
the sale is, you know.” 

“ Yes, I knew the sale was delayed till town meeting day, 
w’hich is to-morrow, I believe; though for what reason they put 
it off I never heard. Plarry felt so bitter about the affair, that I 
thought I would not disturb his feelings by making any allusions 
to the subject. But there appeared to be something about it that 
I didn’t understand. Why didn’t the sale take place last week, 
as first appointed ? " 

“ For as good a reason as ever a tory officer had for doing 
any thing—or not doing any thing, may be, I should say— in the 
world,” replied Bart, with a knowing look. 

10 


no 


THE RANGERS, 


What was it ? ” 

AVby, when the day come, he couldn’t find any cattle to sell.” 

“ ^ nat had become of them ? ” 

“ Well, mistress, I don’t know how much it is best to say about 
that, considering. But I shouldn’t be surprised,” continued the 
speaker, while a sly, roguish expression stole over his usually 
grave, impenetrable countenance, “ that is, not much surprised, 
if it turned out that two or three of Harry’s friends got the cattle 
out of the barn where they were keeping, one dark night, and 
driv ’em off into the woods, near the top of Governor’s Mountain, 
and then backed up hay enough to keep ’em a spell ; while the 
company took turns, for a few days, in going a hunting over the 
mountain, so as to come round, once in a while, to fodder and see 
to the creters, for which old Bug-Horn paid in milk, on the spot. 
Now, mind, I haven’t said I knew this was so, but was only kinder 
guessing at it; for all that’s really known about it — that is, out 
loud — is, that Fitch and his men found the cattle up there ; and 
the way they found them was by following up the trail made by 
the hay straws that some one, after a while, grew careless 
enough to scatter from his back-load along the path.” 

“ Did my son have any hand in this affair } ” asked the widow, 
anxiously. 

“ No, mistress ; Harry is so kinder notional about some things, 
that we thought — that is, I guess some thought — it wasn’t best 
to say any thing to him about the plan till his cattle were fairly 
saved.” 

“ I am glad to hear it. I should rather see him deprived of his 
last penny than do a questionable act. We should never do 
wrong because others have done wrong to us.” 

“ There is a differ between your think and mine, I see, mis¬ 
tress. If they did wrong in getting away Harry’s cattle so, as 
everybody knows they did, then the tother of that — getting 
them back again — must be right. But you needn’t tell any body 
what I’ve said, mistress; for they might, perhaps, have Bill 
Piper and me up, and try to make harglary out of it — or simony, 
I don’t know but the law folks would call it — the breaking into 
a log-barn. But hush! Somebody’s coming. It is the doctor.’* 

Doctor Soper, who now entered, was a small, pug-nosed, 
hubby man, of ostentatious manners, and high pretensions to 
skill and knowledge in his profession ; though, in fact, he was 
but a quack, and of that most dangerous class, too, who dip into 
oooks rather to acquire learned terms than to study principles, 
and who, consequently, as often as otherwise, are found “ doctor- 


OR THE TORY S DAUGHTER. 


Ill 


ing to a name,” which chance has suggested, but which has little 
connection with the case which is engaging their attention. 

“ Ah, how do you find yourself, madam ? ” said the doctor, 
throwing off his dripping overcoat, and drawing up a chair towards 
the head of the patient’s bed. 

“ Very ill, doctor,” replied the other. Not so much on ac¬ 
count of the loss of strength, as yet, as the deeply-seated pain in 
the chest, which, for the last twenty-four hours, has caused me 
great suffering ; though, for the last half hour, not so severe.” 

“ Indeed, madam ! Well, now for the diagnosis of your dis¬ 
ease. I pride myself on diagnostics. Your wrist, madam, if you 
please,” said the doctor, proceeding to feel the pulse of his pa¬ 
tient, with an air intended for a very professional one. “ Tense 
— frequent—^this pulse of yours, madam; showing great irrita¬ 
bility. Your tongue, now. Ay — rubric — dry and streaked; 
usual prognostics of neuralgy. Pretty much made up my mind 
about your complaint coming along, madam, having learned from 
your lad here something of your troubles and fright on losing 
your home. And I was right, I see. It is neuralgy — decidedly 
a neuralgy.''' 

“ What is that, doctor > ” 

“Always happy to explain, madam, so as to bring my mean¬ 
ing within the comprehension of common minds. Neuralgy^ 
madam, is a derangement of the nerves. Your disease, pre¬ 
cisely.” 

“ Whv, I am not at all nervous, sir,” responded the patient, 
looking up in surprise. 

“ You may not think so, madam. Few do, in your case.” 

“ And then, doctor, I have an intense inward fever,” persisted 
the other, “ and my lungs seem much affected.” 

“ Nervous fever, madam,” returned the doctor, too wise to be 
instructed, “ and lungs sympathetically affected — that’s all. 
Quiet and strengthen the nerves, and all will be right in a short 
time. I shall prescribe Radix Rkei, in small doses, assqfcetida, 
quinine^ and brandy bitters of my own preparing. These, wuh 
nourishing food, as soon as you can bear it, will speedily restoie 
you, madam.” 

Having dealt out the prescribed medicines, calculated rather 
to increase than check the poor woman’s malady, which was 
inflammation of the lungs, the self-satisfied doctor, sw'elling with 
his own importance, departed, leaving his patient now to contend 
with two evils, instead of one —a dangerous disease, and the more 
dangerous effects of a quack’s prescription. 


112 


THE RANGERS, 


What time is it now, Barty ? ” asked the invalid, with a deep 
sigh, as she awoke from a troubled slumber, into which she had 
fallen after the doctor’s departure. 

“ Why, don’t know exactly, mistress,” answered Bart, rousing 
himself from the dreamy abstraction in which he had been in¬ 
dulging, as he sat looking into the decaying fire — “ don’t know, 
exactly ; but it has got a considerable piece into the night. About 
nine o’clock, guess ; may be more.” 

“ Nine o’clock at night, and Harry not yet returned ! ” sighed 
the invalid. “ Well, well, I will complain no more.” 

“ Can I do any thing for you, mistress ? ” asked her untutored 
attendant, touched at the sad and despondent tone "of the other. 

“ You may bring me in a pitcher of fresh, cold water, with 
some ice in it, if you will, Barty,” replied the former. “ It seems 
to me as if this inward heat was consuming my vitals, since I 
took the doctor’s medicines.” 

The youth, with noiseless step, then disappeared with his 
pitcher, and, in a few moments, returned with it filled with water 
and several pieces of clear, pure ice, which were heard dashing 
against its sides. 

“ How grateful! ” said the sick woman, as she took from her 
lips the wooden cup which had been filled and handed her by her 
attendant, and from which she had eagerly drained nearly a pint 
of the cooling beverage at a single draught. “ There, now, set 
the pitcher on the table yonder, and raise the largest piece of ice 
up in sight, so, as I lie here, I can look at it. The mere sight 
of it seems to do me good.” 

Another dreary hour rolled away in silence, which was broken 
only by the restless motions and occasional suppressed groans 
of the invalid within, and the wailing of the winds and the pat¬ 
tering of the rain against the windows without, when a slow, 
heavy step was heard coming up to the house. 

“ That is he — that is his step ! ” faintly exclaimed the sick 
woman, partially raising herself in bed, and gazing eagerly 
'towards the door; while her pain-contracted features were, for 
the moment, smoothed by the smile of affection and pleasure that 
now broke over them, like the faint electric illumining of a weep¬ 
ing cloud. 

The quick ears of the afilicted mother had not deceived her. 
The next instant Harry Woodburn entered the room, and, with a 
gloomy, abstracted air, proceeded to divest himself of his wet 
coat and muddy boots, without uttering a word, or bestowing any 
thing more than a casual glance towards the bed, to which he 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


113 


supposed his mother had just retired, as was usual with her, about 
this hour, and not suspecting that she was more indisposed than 
when he left her. But as he now turned and approached the 
fire, his eyes fell, for the first time, on her haggard features 
when, stopping short, with a look of surprise and lively concern, 
he exclaimed, — 

“ Mother ! are you worse, mother ? ” 

“ Yes, Harry, I am very, very sick ; and O, how glad I am 
that you are come.” 

For several moments he said nothing, but stood gazing at her 
with the distressed and stupefied air of one struggling to shut out 
painful apprehensions. At length, however, he aroused himself, 
and made a few hasty inquiries relative to her disorder, and what 
had been done for her ; and, having been informed of all that had 
occurred in his absence, and now appearing fully to comprehend 
the danger of her situation, he sat down by her bedside, when 
his lip soon began to quiver, and his strong bosom heave with 
tumultuous emotions, while bitter tears flowed down his manly 
cheeks, as this crowning blow to his misfortunes was brought 
home to his feelings. 

“ Had they been content,” he said, struggling hard, but vainly, 
to master his feelings — “ had they but been content with robbing 
me of my property, I could have borne it; but to be the means, 
also, of murdering my only parent, is more than I can endure. 
God help me, or I shall go mad ! ” 

“ Do not—do not be so distressed, my son,” said the mother, 
deeply touched at this exhibition of feeling, accompanied as it 
was with such a proof of filial affection in her idolized son, and 
anxious to soothe and divert his mind. “ I shall recover, if God 
wills it. Let us, then, bow in resignation to his dispensations, 
and not disturb our feelings with unavailing regrets. Come, my 
dear son, cheer up, and tell me how you have succeeded in the 
object of your journey.” 

“ No success,” he replied, gloomily. “ No ; I have been run¬ 
ning from town to town since yesterday morning, and have not 
been able to obtain a single dollar. So the cattle must go to satisfy 
the stolen judgment of that insatiable Peters.” 

At this moment the conversation was arrested by a low rap at 
the door, when, after the customary walk in had been pro¬ 
nounced by Woodburn, the door was gently opened, and a tall, 
robust young man, with a frank, open countenance, hesitatingly 
entered. 

“Good evening, folks,” he said, in a suppressed tone. ‘‘I 
10 * 


114 


THE RANGERS^ 


didn’t exactly know what to do about calling to-night, on‘account 
of disturbing your mother, Harry ; but wishing to know whether 
you had got home, and hear the news if you had, I thought I 
would venture to rap. What is going on up country ^ ” 

“ Nothing very new, I believe, Mr. Piper.” 

“ Well, what luck about the money, Harry .? ” 

“ None — none whatever.” 

“ I am sorry for that. No, I won’t lie, now-, I am not sorry, 
Harry ; and I will tell you why, hereafter. All I wanted to know 
to-night was, whether you had got the wherewith to redeem the 
cattle, to-morrow being the last chance for doing it, you know.” 

“ Yes, I was aware of it, friend Piper; and many thanks for 
the interest you take in my misfortunes. But I cannot redeem 
the stock. It must go : nothing more can be done to save it.” 

“ Well, I don’t quite know about that, Harry. I don’t know 
about standing by, and seeing a neighbor’s property snatched 
away from him on such smuggled papers. But let that turn as it 
may, the subject brings to mind a certain circumstance, which I 
will name, after first asking a question ; and that is, whether 
Peters has not been hung ? ” 

“ Peters hung ? Why, no; the prisoners are not to be tried till 
the new court we have been appointing at Westminster holds its 
first session, some weeks hence. But why do you ask so strange 
a question ? ” 

Well, Harry, by way of answer, I will tell you the circum¬ 
stance I alluded to, which was this : Last night, as I was cross¬ 
ing about town drumming up friends to attend the meeting to¬ 
morrow, seeing we are expecting a hard tussle, I met a man that 
I could have sworn was John Peters, if I had not known the fellow 
was close in Northampton jail; and as it was, I could swear it 
was-his exact shape and appearance. Well, knowing it could 
not be him bodily, it soon struck me that they had been hanging 
off a parcel of them there, Peters among the rest, and that this 
was his ghost, kinder hovering about here to see if his affairs 
were fixed up to his liking.” 

“ Your notion of a ghost. Piper, if you are serious about it, is 
all nonsense,” said Woodburn, who had listened with lively inter¬ 
est to the singular story of the other. “ Yes, that is nonsense ; 
but it has brought to mind a rumor which reached Brattle borough 
yesterday, that all the prisoners at Northampton had been liberated 
by habeas corpus from the chief justice of New York, and were 
now at large. Although this was not credited, yet, if you saw 
Peters here last night, as I begin to fear, the story must have been 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


115 


- true. And he appears here, at this time, for the double purpose 
of seeing, as you said, whether his orders have been carried into 
execution, and of being present to use his corrupting influence at 
town meeting to-morrow.” 

“ Well, Harry, that’s about what I meant; for I saw him sure 
enough, and knew, at once, that we had got to have him against 
us at town meeting, which makes our case rather doubtful. We 
felt quite sure, before this, of being able to carry a majority; and, 
in that case, some of us counted on getting a vote to rescue your 
cattle, or; at least, putting them into the hands of our sheriff.* 
And either of these ways would be the means, we thought, of 
saving your property, and, at the same time, be a plaguy sight 
more lawful than any authority they have for selling them. But 
now there’s no saying how it will go. I expect hot work there 
to-morrow ; and that minds me to ask if you heard whether help 
from the towns up the river is coming down to join us on the 
occasion ” 

“Yes, Tom Dunning came down with me, and he informed me 
that several others were on the way.” 

“ Good. Tom himself, in matter of managing, will be almost 
a match for Peters, whether ghost or no ghost. But where is 
he ? ” 

“ He stopped back at the Liberty Pole tavern.” 

“ All happens right, then. I am bound there myself. We are 
going to hold a little meeting at the Pole, after folks are to bed, 
to make up our plans and arrangements for to-morrow. You 
can’t go, I suppose.” 

“ No, I must not think of it.” 

“ But you will be at town meeting to-morrow } ” 

“ Quite uncertain. In the first place, I ought not to leave my 
sick mother; and in the next, my feelings are in such a state 
of bitterness, that I dare hardly trust myself in such a scene, 
lest I should do that which would cost me months of painful 
regret. No, Piper, in mercy to a desperate man, let me keep 
away. But here is Bart to go, if he choose, both to-night and to¬ 
morrow.” 

“ Bart is agreeable to that, if Harry and mistress don’t want 
him,” said the person just named, rousing up from the long-silent 

♦ During the period of anarchy, change, and discord, in this distracted 
town, each of the belligerent parties had their sheriff, or constable, and 
other town officers, and would yield obedience to the officers of their op¬ 
ponents only on compulsion, though the officers of the majority were not 
generally resisted, except, perhaps, in matters purely political. 



116 


THE RANGERS, 


reverie in which he had been sitting before the fire, apparently 
inattentive to the conversation of the others, which had been car¬ 
ried on in a low tone, at the opposite side of the room. “ So here 
goes for the Pole to-night, and meeting to-morrow,” he added, 
taking down his gun from the pegs on which it was suspended, 
near the ceiling above. 

“ What do you want to do with that, Bart ? ” asked Woodburn. 

“ I want it for lining to my coat,” replied Bart. “ If our coats 
had all been lined in that fashion, the first night there, at West¬ 
minster, we needn’t have had to attend French’s funeral, nor you 
been troubled about the papers they got out when you was in 
iail.” 

“ Bravo, Bart. You see that my coat is not wanting of that 
kind of lining, don’t you ? ” said Piper, throwing open his great¬ 
coat and displaying a rifle, as the two now left the house together, 
on their way to the rendezvous of the liberty party. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


117 


CHAPTER X. 


“ Agreed in nothing, but t’ abolish, 
Subvert, extirpate, and demolish.” 


“ Hurrah for Vermont! hurrah for the new state of Vermont! 
The victory is won, and the town is redeemed ! hurrah ! hurrah ! ” 

Such were the sounds that rose and rung among the rafters of 
the crowded old log Town House of Guilford, as, for the first 
time for several years, a New Statesman and whig moderator was 
declared elected by a majority of the suffrages of the freemen. 
The next moment, the door was seen vomiting forth its throng of 
excited victors, who, as they reached the open air, joined the 
crowd eagerly awaiting the result at the entrance, and, with them, 
renewed and reiterated the glad shout, till the distant hills respond¬ 
ed in loud echoes to the roar of the stentorian voices of the tri¬ 
umphant party. 

After a fortnight’s active exertions on the part of each of the 
opposing parties, in mustering and drilling their respective forces, 
preparatory to the approaching contest, in which both were equally 
confident of victory, though too sensible of the danger of losing 
it to remit any effort, the voters had assembled at one o’clock in 
the afternoon. After spending several hours in a disorderly and 
wrangling debate, in relation to the qualification of voters, which 
at last resulted in rejecting the test required by the charter,— that 
of being a freeholder, — and in permitting every resident to vote, the 
ballots had been taken for moderator, or chairman of the meeting, 
when, as much to the dismay of the tories as the joy of their op¬ 
ponents, it was found that victory, in a majority of three, had 
declared for the latter, who thereupon testified their exultation in 
the uproarious manner we have described. 

After a while, the noise and tumult within the house was sud¬ 
denly hushed, and the clear, deliberate tones of some new speaker 
addressing the assembly, became audible to those without the 
building; while the attent and eager looks of those who stood lis¬ 
tening in the crowded pass-way, plainly evinced that some impor¬ 
tant and exciting subject had been introduced. At length the 
voice ceased, and a new commotion ensued within. 

“ Wharnew movement is that ? what is going on in there now, 




118 


THE RANGERS, 


Piper ? ” asked one standing near the door, as the young man 
came elbowing his way out of the house. 

Why, they are on Colonel Carpenter’s resolution. Haven’t 
none of you here been in there to hear it ? ” said Piper, turning 
to the querist and other political associates, standing near by. 

“ No; what is it about ? ” inquired several of the latter, with 
interest. 

‘‘ The York Rule,” answered Piper, with an animated air. 
“ The colonel offered a resolve that we shake off the York govern¬ 
ment now, henceforth and forever. And this he backed with a 
speech which would have done you good to hear. He went into 
them, I tell you, like a thousand of brick; and not a single tory 
tongue of ’em all dare wag in trying to answer it. They are now 
beginning to vote on the resolution, which, if carried, the colonel 
intends to follow up by another, cutting up all British authority, 
root and branch.” 

At this moment, they were joined by Tom Dunning, who came 
hurrying out of the house, and, taking Piper aside, said, — 

“ Do you ditter understand the plan of what’s going on i 
there. Piper, and the importance to you here, in Guilford, of car¬ 
rying it ? ” 

“ Not fully, perhaps,” answered Piper. “ I didn’t have a 
chance to talk with Carpenter and the other committee before this 
move was made, and don’t understand why they did not urge on 
the election of the other town officers, as usual, after making a 
moderator, instead of getting up these resolutions.” 

“ Der well, this is it; they are afraid to ditter try any of the 
town officers on so slim a majority. Jest the tory candidates should 
have got some of our voters under their thumbs, by way of debts 
or other obligations, which they will der make use of to get 
their votes for them personally, but won’t have ’em pledged for 
this.” 

“ That is well thought of,” responded Piper. “ They have in¬ 
deed got the screws on some I know of, and would so threaten 
’em with prosecutions, that I’m fearful they would get ’em, sure 
enough. But what’s the prospect about the resolutions ? ” 

“ Well, the colonel thinks, after what has ditter taken place 
at Westminster, that we can carry them ; and if we can, it 
will pretty effectually tie ’em up, even if they got their officers. 
But we der don’t mean to let ’em. For the plan is, that as 
soon as we’ve ditter carried the resolves, to dissolve the meet¬ 
ing without making any town officers at all, which we think 
can be carried by the same voters, and which if we can ditter 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


/ 119 


do it, with the resolves, will kill Fitch and his papers as dead as 
a ditter dum smelt, and so save the property of Harry, and that 
of all others in the same der situation.” 

“Good!” exclaimed Piper, with animation; “I see through 
the move now ; and we’ll go at ’em, and whip ’em out on it; and 
fhen if Fitch don’t give up the cattle, we’ll make him, by the 
course we thought of taking, last night, in case we failed electing 
our officers to-day, or of getting any vote on Harry’s affair.” 

“ Yes; but we must be ditter lively in getting in the voters. 
You and Bart go in and vote ; and I will beat about the bush, 
here, for more help, before I go in ; for as they have just admitted 
some to vote on a twenty hours’ residence, — as 1 can ditter 
swear they did, — I intend to vote myself, this time, and have all 
those from my way der do the same,” said the hunter, bustling 
off to muster his forces. 

Just as Dunning, who had collected a band of voters, without 
much regard to their qualifications, was pushing into the house 
at the head of his recruits, an outcry was raised within ; and, the 
next moment, Bart Burt was seen hastily emerging from the 
crowd, followed by the kicks and cudgel-blows of the tories, 
through whom he had been compelled, to save himself from a 
rougher handling, to run the gauntlet to the door. 

“ What, in the name of der Tophet, is the meaning of that 
ditter treatment, ye shameless lubbers ? ” sternly demanded the 
hunter, shaking his stout beech cane over the heads of the fore¬ 
most of his opponents. 

“ He deserves it I He is an impostor ! He tried to get in his 
vote when he aint over eighteen years old! ” shouted several 
tory voices in reply. 

“ They let me vote last time without a word,” said Bart, facing 
round upon his foes, with a grin of spite and pain; “ and so they 
did John Stubbs and Jo Snelling, then and now too; and they 
aint a day older than I be.” 

“ Then we will der have you in, and vote too, if the ditter 
divil stands at the door ! ” fiercely exclaimed the hunter. 

“ Let them prove he aint one and twenty,” said one of the 
same party. “ He wasn’t born in these parts, nor does he know 
himself, 1 understand, where he was born, or how old he is ; and 
until they can prove him under age, I motion, blow high or blow 
low, that we make them receive his vote.” 

“ Ay, av, he shall vote ! he shall vote 1 ” shouted a dozen oth¬ 
ers. “ They have admitted others under age, and they shall him, 
whether or no I Let ’em live up to their own rules ! Sauce for 


120 


THE RANGERS, 


goose is sauce for gander, the world over; they shall take hi^«^ ! 
they shall take him ! ” 

A hasty consultation was now held, and a plan of operations 
for compelling the opposite party to admit Bart to the polls was 
soon digested. And, in pursuance of this plan, Bart, who was 
short and light of weight, was mounted astride the brawny shoul¬ 
ders of Dunning, while Piper, with his burly frame, was placed 
in front, wdth a stiff cudgel in hand, to act as the battering-ram 
or entering wedge to the crowd of tories, who had closed up the 
way with their bodies, obviously to prevent Bart, or any other 
whig, indeed, from again entering till the ballot-box was turned. 
Eight or ten stout, resolute young men were then selected and 
formed in colunm to bring up the rear, and give such an impetus 
to those before them as to force them forward in spite of all op¬ 
posing obstacles, till they reached the voters’ stand in the house. 

“ Ditter ready, boysnow cried Dunning, firmly grasping 
Bart’s legs, and glancing over his shoulders to his lusty little band 
of backers. “All ready there, behind, boys.? Then go ahead, 
as if ditter Belzebub kicked ye an end ! ” 

At the w'ord. Piper, gathering himself up like a ram for a but¬ 
ting match, made a lunge head foremost into the recoiling ranks 
of the tories, and, borne irresistibly forward by the force of the 
rushing phalanx behind, overthrew, prostrated, and shoved aside, 
all before him, till the whole column gained the interior, and 
came to a halt before the ballot-box. 

“I protest against that fellow’s voting!” exclaimed Peters, 
approaching the stand as Bart, from his lofty seat on Dunning’s 
shoulders, was about to put in his vote, which w’as a simple t/ea, 
written on a slip of paper, and handed up to him by some one 
stationed near the box to furnish the unsupplied. “ I protest 
against such a glaring outrage I He is under age, and was very 
properly driven from the house.” 

“ Prove it! prove it I ” shouted several of Bart’s friends. 

“ You can’t do it,” cried another, “and if you could, two of 
your party, who are under age, have voted already ; ’tis a fact; 
deny it if you can ! ” 

“ In with it, Bart! ” said Dunning, bending down to give the 
other a chance. 

“ Yes, in with it; for he shall vote ! ” responded the rest. 

“ He shall not vote ! ” vociferated Peters; “ and if he at¬ 
tempts to do it. I’ll blow his brains out! ” he added, pulling out 
and levelling a pistol. Quick as thought, Bart threw open his 
over-coat, and, drawing from beneath it the light, short gun there 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


121 


concealed, cocked, and brought it to his shoulder; while the 
threatening weapon of his foe was seen flying to a distant part 
of the room, from a sudden blow of Piper’s cudgel, and its dis¬ 
armed and nonplused owner slinking away out of the range of 
the suspicious-looking barrel still kept aimed at his head. 

Amidst the loud cries of order, and the heated vociferations 
of both parties, now raised to condemn or defend the transaction, 
through the house, Bart, Dunning, and others of their company, 
who had not voted, now hastily deposited their votes, and retired 
unmolested. 

Although the portion of the revolutionary party, whose move¬ 
ments we have been more particularly describing, acting on the 
supposed and probably actual frauds of their opponents, had 
thus secured Bart’s vote, and the votes of two or three others, 
perhaps equally illegal, yet the event soon showed that their 
policy in so, doing was a mistaken one, and calculated to defeat 
the very object they intended to promote; for, as will always be 
the result where one party attempts to adopt the wrongful meas¬ 
ures of their opponents, the tories, now armed with the fact that 
they had detected the other party in a wrong more glaring, be¬ 
cause more public, than any they had perpetrated, made use of 
the advantage with such effect as to bring over several, intending 
to support the resolutions, to change their intention, and go 
against them. And, in addition to this, by way of retaliating, and 
of making good at least all the ground lost by the questionable 
votes forced upon them, they brought forward every minor they 
could find approximating the size of a man, and boldly demanded 
their admittance to the polls. An opposition was, indeed, at¬ 
tempted to a measure so manifestly illegal, by the leaders of the 
other party ; but they had become too much disarmed by the 
acts of their own partisans to produce any sensible effect; and 
their voices were soon drowned by the clamors of the tories, who 
now admitted the boys by acclamation. This, as will be antici¬ 
pated, decided the contest. On counting the votes, the resolu¬ 
tion was found to have been rejected by more than a dozen ma¬ 
jority— a victory which the tories failed not to announce by 
shouts of exultation, which out-thundered those of their opponents 
in their late short-lived triumph. The friends of freedom, being 
thus caught in their own trap, or, at least, worsted by the indis¬ 
cretion of their own friends, now pretty much yielded the contest; 
while the victorious Yorkers and tories had every thing in their 
own way, electing their town officers, passing denunciatory and 
loval resolutions, and continuing their discussions unopposed, till 
11 


122 


THE HANGERS, 


it was nearly dark, when the meeting broke up in noisy con¬ 
fusion. 

“ Oyez ! Oyez! Oyez! ” was now heard crying the well- 
known voice of Constable Fitch, as he mounted a stump in the 
yard ; while near by stood a gang of his confederates, hedging in 
Woodburn’s cow and oxen, which the former had found the means 
to have on the spot, in readiness for the sale, the moment the 
assembly broke up. “ Oyez ! A cow and oxen, taken on execu¬ 
tion, now about to be sold to the highest bidder, gentlemen. We 
will take the oxen first; as fine a yoke as ever drew plough. 
Who will give us the first bid ? Shan’t dwell three minutes. 
Who bids, I say ? One pound bid, gentlemen; one pound ten I 
one pound ten ! and on Mr. Peters. Who bids higher ? ” 

But, as rapid as had been the constable’s movements, he did 
not, as he intended, take the friends of Woodburn by surprise. 
They had withdrawn from the meeting a short time before it 
dissolved, and met for consultation in the rear of the house, 
where, having arranged their plan of operations, they stood 
awaiting for the proper time to carry it into execution. 

“ There ! ” exclaimed Dunning, as the constable began to cry 
the sale in the manner we have just described — “ there, that is 
ditter Fitch ; he is at it! All ready, boys ? You, Piper and 
Bart, with your vials of oil of vitriol in your sleeves, ready to 
uncork on to their ditter tails ? ” 

“ Ay, ay ! ” _ 

“ And your ditter snuff to throw into their eyes ? ” 

“ Yes, that, too.” 

“ And your guns ditter cocked, and safe under your coats, 
you that are to fire ? ” 

Ay, all right and ready — lead on ! ” 

“ Der well, but remember we ditter separate here, so as to 
come up on different sides of the crowd; and mind, don’t let 
off your guns till the creatures begin to ditter grow uneasy and 
der snort and blow.” 

While Fitch was repeating the bids he had received for the 
oxen, and was about to knock them off to the highest bidder, 
which still chanced to be Peters, he was suddenly told to hold 
on, by several persons who had just at that moment made their 
appearance in different parts of the crowd, and who expressed 
their wish to bid, as soon as they could get up to examine the 
cattle. Owing to the duskiness, the faces of the new comers 
did not'seem to be recognized by the tories, who unsuspectingly 
opened and admitted them to the stand. Quickly availing them- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


123 


selves of the opportunity, the former, among the foremost of 
whom were Piper and Bart, now crowded eagerly round ^he 
cattle, and, after rapidly passing their hands over the cow and 
each of the oxen a moment, and then stepping back, began to 
banter and bid. Not much time, however, was allowed them to- 
do either; for the cattle, all at once, became unaccountably 
restless, at first backing and wheeling about in their confined 
space, and then wildly tossing up their heads, snuffing, and 
assuming the startled and furious appearance generally exhibited 
by this class of animals when about to make a desperate effort to 
break away. 

At this critical juncture, the fierce flashes and stunning re¬ 
ports of a half dozen muskets burst over the heads of the 
startled and astonished company from various points on the outer 
edge of the crowd ; and the next instant the already maddened 
cattle, with loud snorts, leaping over or trampling down all in 
their way, broke through the living hedge of tories around them, 
and bounded off, with their tails thrown aloft, and bellowing in 
wild affright, in different directions, towards the woods, leaving 
the amazed and broken crowd jostling and pitching about with 
exclamations of surprise, groans of pain, volleys of oaths, and 
shouts of laughter, all mingled in Babel-like confusion. 

“ ’Tis all the work of the cursed rebels ! ” exclaimed Peters, 
the first to rally and comprehend the affair. “Fitch!” he 
added, pointing after the runaway cattle, “ where the devil are 
your wits, that you don’t order a pursuit ? ” 

“ Yes, pursue and bring ’em back, instantly ! ” screamed the 
constable, awaking from the stupor and confusion of ideas into 
which he seemed to have been thrown by the strange and unex¬ 
pected occurrence. “ Yes, ’tis an unlawful rescue — it’s a con¬ 
spiracy ! bring back the cattle 1 seize the offenders, every one 
of ’em ! in the king’s name I command ye.” 

Obedient to the call, the obsequious tories instantly rallied for 
the pursuit, and, breaking off into three distinct bands, eagerly 
set forward in the different directions taken by the fugitive 
cattle, then just disappearing over the distant swells, or in the 
borders of the woods. Dunning, Piper and Bart, who, in the 
mean while, had, unknown and unsuspected in the darkness and 
corifusion, stood in the throng, keenly watching the result of 
their plan, no sooner heard the expected order of pursuit given, 
than, separating, like their opponents, and each joining a different 
band of the pursuers, they sprang in before the rest, and, by their 
superior alacrity and speed, soon succeeded in taking the lead^ 


124 


THE RANGERS, 


and finally in completely distancing all otljers in the promiscuous 
chase. The tories, now soon wholly losing sight of their fleet, 
and, as they still supposed, trusty guides in the pursuit, became, in 
a short time, confused and at fault respecting the courses to be 
taken ; and, after hallooing and running about the woods and 
pastures at random, nearly an hour, without discovering any 
traces either of the lost cattle or the missing pursuers, at length 
came straggling back to the Town House, and, by way of saving 
their own credit, reported to Fitch, Peters, and the small party 
remaining there, that their swiftest runners were last seen nearly 
up with the cattle, and would soon be in with them, or that the 
creatures had been headed, and were on their way back, in another 
direction. On this, the company waited another hour; when, 
neither the cattle nor the expected pursuers appearing, they 
began to suspect something amiss; and the inquiries and in¬ 
vestigations then put afoot soon resulted in the mortifying con¬ 
viction, that the cattle had been overtaken and driven off by the 
same persons who previously had caused them to break away. 
Prompted by the enraged Peters, Fitch then offered a reward 
for the recovery of the cattle and the detection of those who had 
abducted them ; when the company separated, to resume the 
search the next day. But although this was done, and the coun¬ 
try scoured in every direction for several days, yet the search 
proved wholly fruitless. Not one of the cattle was to be found. 
Nor were the actors in the transaction, with any certainty, identi¬ 
fied, though the absence of Piper and Bart, for some days after 
the event, caused them to be suspected and marked for punish¬ 
ment, when they should again appear abroad. 


OH THE Tory’s daughter. 


125 


CHAPTER XL 


“ Vital spark of heavenly flame 1 
Q.uit, O quit this mortal frame ! 
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, 
O the pain, the bliss of dying ! 
Cease, fond nature ! cease thy strife, 
And let me languish into life.” 


F ERHAPS the nearest and dearest, as well as the most interesting, 
tie of consanguity, is that existing between mother and son. 
Who has not witnessed the unfailing and unconquerable strength 
of a mother’s love for the son of her heart and her vows, 
cleaving to its object through prosperity and through adversity, 
through honor and through shame, with a constancy which never 
wavers ? And what son, especially after the thoughtlessness of 
youth has given place to the reflection of maturer years, and 
experience has taught him the insincerity and selfishness of the 
world — what son has not turned back and lingered, with the 
most grateful emotions, over the pleasing memories of a mother’s 
care ; pondered with the most heart-felt admiration over the 
deep, pure, and undying nature of a mother’s love ; realized 
more and more the priceless value of a sentiment so fraught 
with moral beauty, so exalted, so proof against all those con- 
oiderations of self, those temptations of interest, before which all 
other ties are seen to give way, and, while thus realizing, found 
his yearning bosom oftener and oftener prompting him to exclaim 
with the poet,— 

, “Where’er I roam, whatever realms I see, 

My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee." 

While the scenes of disorder and tumult we last described, and 
the similar ones that followed, were being enacted among the 
belligerent parties of this misgoverned town, the dutiful and sor¬ 
rowing Woodburn was continuing his attendance on his sick 
mother, from whose bedside no call of business or of pleasure 
was suffered for a single hour to lure him. And well might he 
have done so, aside even from the dictates of filial duty ; for 
she was a woman not only of unaffected piety, but of education 
11 * 




126 


THE RANGERS, 


and intellect; and to her he had been mainly indebted for al\ 
that was good and elevated in his character. She had emigrated 
with her husband to this town, at an early period of its settlement, 
from the vicinity of Boston, where the latter had become so much 
straitened in his pecuniary circumstances, in consequence of 
being surety for an improvident and luckless brother, that he 
was induced, with the hope of bettering his fortunes, to gather 
up the poor remnant of his property, and, with it, remove to the 
New Hampshire Grant’s, at that time the Eldorado most in vogue 
among those seeking new countries. Here, having purchased 
one of the best tracts of land in the place, he commenced the 
slow and laborious process of clearing up a new farm. And this 
Herculean task, which may well be considered the work of a 
man’s life, he had, after years of incessant toil and privation, 
nearly succeeded in accomplishing, and begun to catch glimpses 
of easier and brighter days ; when he was taken away by disease, 
leaving his property to his wife and son, an only child, then 
drawing towards manhood. And nobly had that son discharged 
the double duty which now devolved upon him, — that of be¬ 
coming the stay and comforter of his widowed mother, and the 
sole manager of the farm, their only dependence. For, while 
discharging his filial duties in such a manner as to gain him the 
reputation of being a pattern of a son, he not only kept good, 
but, by his industry and enterprise, even improved, the property 
to which he had thus succeeded. And he was fast surmounting 
the difficulties of his situation, and making hopeful advances 
towards a competence, when, in an evil hour, his flourishing 
little establishment attracted the coveting eye of the unconscion¬ 
able Peters, who, owning an adjoining farm, which would be 
rendered much more salable by being united with Wood burn’s, 
undertook, at first, to wheedle the young man into a sale, or rather 
an exchange of his valuable farm for another, or wild lands, at 
false valuations and of doubtful titles. But, finding himself 
wholly mistaken in the character of the person whom he thus 
endeavored to overreach, and consequently failing in his attempt, 
he next began to think of the quibbles of the law, as the means 
of accomplishing his purpose. And having discovered some 
slight irregularity in Woodburn’s deed, to begin upon, he then 
resorted to a trick quite fashionable among the corrupt specula¬ 
tors of those unsettled times — that of purchasing from some un¬ 
principled person, ready, for a small sum, to enter into the fraud, 
a deed of prior date to that of the one to be defeated, with 
descriptions of oremises and references to suit the purchaser, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


127 


the worthless assumed owner neither knowing nor caring what 
his deed might convey. Having secretly procured a prior deed 
of Woodburn’s farm in this manner, Peters could see but one 
obstacle now in the way of his success, which was the town 
records, embracing that of Woodburn’s deed. How was this to 
be disposed of.? A bold measure, which could be executed by 
his minions under political pretences, occurred to him ; and the 
result was, that part of the town record soon disappeared. Peters 
then commenced an action against Woodburn, to eject him from 
his farm, the course and consequences of which are already known 
to the reader. 

Spring had now come; but its bland and balmy breath brought 
no relief to the suffering widow. From the hour she had been 
compelled to take to her bed, her disease, though sometimes 
lulled, or raging less fiercely than at other times, had never for 
a moment loosened its tenacious grasp. And although her cheer¬ 
ful words, and meek, uncomplaining looks, had often misled her 
anxious son, or, at least, prevented him from despairing of her 
recovery, yet the dry, parched, red tongue, the daily return of 
the bright hectic spot, and the tense, hurrying and unvarying beat 
of the strained pulses, might have told him how certainly and 
rapidly the work of destruction was going on'at the citadel of 
life,*and better prepared him for the agonizing scene which was 
now to follow. 

It was a calm and pleasant evening towards the close of April, 
and the low-descending sun was shedding the mellow light of 
his parting beams over the joyful face of reanimating nature. 
The invalid, during all the fore part of the day, had suffered 
greatly from pain — that general and undefinable distress which 
is so frequently found to be the precursor of approaching disso¬ 
lution. To this had succeeded a sort of lethargic sleep, from 
which it was not easy to arouse her, so that she could be made 
to take any notice of what was passing around her. But now she 
awoke, clear and collected; and, glancing round the room, with 
a sort of pensive animtition, met and answered the inquiring and 
solicitous look of her son with an affectionate smile. Presently, 
her wandering eye rested on some objects of the landscape, 
glimpses of which she had caught through one of the small, 
patched windows of the room, and she faintly observed,— 

“ How pleasant it appears without! Harry,” she continued, 
after a thoughtful pause, “ could you take out that window before 
me.? I feel a desire to look out once more on the green earth, 
and breathe the sweet air of spring.” 


128 . 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Yes, mother,” said the other, approaching the bed, with a 
surprised and hesitating air ; “ yes, I could easily do it, I pre¬ 
sume ; but would it be quite safe for you to be exposed to the 
evening air ? ” 

“ Yes, Harry; the time for the exercise of such cares is gone 
by. You need fear no more for me, now, my son,” she replied, 
in accents of tender sadness. 

The son then, with a doubtful and troubled look, proceeded 
in silence to comply with the unexpected request; after which, 
lie gently raised the head of the invalid, w’ho, thereupon, gazed 
long and thoughtfully on the variegated landscape, which lay 
spread out in tranquil beauty beneath her dimly-kindling eye. 

“ How beautiful! ” she at length feebly exclaimed, in a tone 
of melancholy rapture — “ beautiful of itself, but more beau¬ 
tiful as the type of man’s destiny after his body has mingled 
with the dust. The scene we here behold, my son, exhibits the 
resurrection of nature. In summer the foliage and blossom ex¬ 
pands, in autumn the fruit is perfected, and in winter the visible 
part falls back to earth and perishes, leaving the hidden seed or 
germ to spring forth again into another life. So it has been, so 
it will be, with me. I have had my brief summer of life, my still 
briefer autumn, and now my winter of death is at hand, from 
which I trust to come forth into the more glorious spring of life 
eternal.” 

“ Do not talk thus, mother,” responded the son, greatly moved 
— “do not talk thus: you distress me. I trust you may yet 
recover. You certainly look brighter this evening ; and I hope 
another day will find you still better.” 

“ No, Harry, not better, as you mean. If I appear brighter, it 
is but the brightness of the last flashing up of the expiring taper. 
I feel that my time is come ; and thanks to Him who has prepared 
my heart to hail the event as a relief and a blessing.” 

“ O my mother, my mother, how can I part with you } ” 

“ My longer sojourn here, my son, would be of little benefit to 
others — even to you : my blessing is worth more than would be 
my further abiding: come and receive it.” 

The weeping son then knelt down at the bedside, and the 
mother, laying her hand on his head, pronounced her blessing 
and a brief prayer for his earthly prosperity and eternal happi¬ 
ness. 

For several minutes, the son, overcome by his emotions, re¬ 
mained kneeling, with his head, on which still languidly rested the 
emaciated hand of the dying mother, bowed upon the bedclothes, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


129 


while the latter, sinking back exhausted on her pillow, closed her 
eyes, and seemed to be silently communing with herself. She 
soon, however, aroused herself, and observed,— 

“ My work is not yet quite done. I have a little more to say 
before the scene closes.” 

“ Say on, mother,” said the other, making an effort to calm 
himself, as he now rose, and, taking a seat near, wistfully rivetted 
his gaze on her pallid face. “ If you are, indeed, about to leave 
me forever, withhold nothing you feel inclined to communicate ; 
for your dying counsels, my dear parent, will be received with 
pleasure arid gratitude, and treasured up in heart and memory 
as the last, best lesson of one to whom I am under such countless 
obligations.” 

‘‘ You have ever acted the part of a dutiful son towards me, 
Harry ; and that is always a mother’s best reward for her care 
and affection for her offspring. And I know not that I have aught 
now to say to you, by way of counsel for your future guidance, 
being willing to leave you to practise upon the principles I have 
endeavored to inculcate, and be to others what you have been to 
me. But it was not of that I intended to speak. I was about 
to name some facts connected with our early reverses, which, it 
being always unpleasant to recur to those scenes of trial, I think I 
have never told you, but which, I thought, it might, perhaps, some 
day avail you something to know. You have heard us casually 
speak, I presume, of your uncle Charles Woodburn ? ” 

“I have, mother.” 

“ And you may also be aware that, through his misconduct, 
we were suddenly reduced from the easy competence we once 
enjoyed to poverty and distress.” 

“ I have so understood it, but never knew what kind of miscon* 
duct it was that led to our misfortunes.” 

“ It was imprudence in speculations, and profligacy in living, 
and not dishonesty, or any intentional wrong to us, as I ever be¬ 
lieved ; though your father, in his desperation when the blow 
came, would listen to no extenuation, but drove him from his 
presence with bitter reproaches and accusations. But your uncle, 
before leaving the country, as he soon after did, sought an inter¬ 
view with me; and, after deploring the misfortunes he had 
brought on my family as well as'himself, solemnly pledged him¬ 
self that he would, some day or other, more than compensate 
me or mine for all the losses he had occasioned us. And this is 
the circumstance I wished to tell you; for, though we never 
received any certain information of him, yet something tells me 


130 


THE RANGERS, 


he still is alive, and has the means and disposition to fulfil his 
promise to you whenever you may find him, and he recogni/.e 
you as the representative of his brother’s family, of whose location 
here he probably was never apprised. I would suggest to you, 
therefore, the expediency of trying to trace him out, and, if you 
succeed in doing so, make yourself and your situation known to 
him ; and, without preferring any claim, leave the result with 
Providence.” 

“Your suggestion, mother, shall not pass from me unheeded, 
nor shall I fail, in due time, to act upon it; but, at present, I 
know not if the last tie that binds me to this place should be 
severed —I know not but our down-trodden country may have 
the first claim on my services. Ever since the startling news of 
the massacre of Lexington reached us, a sense of the duty of 
devoting myself to her defence has pressed heavily and constantly 
on my mind. And but for the stronger claim which nature and 
my own feelings have given you, in your situation, to my pres¬ 
ence and attention, I might, before this, have been with my 
shouldered musket on my way to the scene of action. But even 
in the event of your death, I should hesitate to obey the call 
if I knew I must do it without your sanction.” 

“ I thank you, my son, for your affectionate deference ; but 
you shall not go without my sanction. Having conjectured what 
might be your feelings at this dark hour of our country’s peril, I 
was about to speak to you on the subject. Yes, Harry, if you 
think duty calls you to the field, in defence of a cause so just and 
righteous as ours, go. You will be under the care of the same 
Providence there as elsewhere. Go, and with a dying mother’s 
blessing, and a prayer of faith for your safety and success, do bat¬ 
tle manfully for the Heaven-favored side, till the oppressor be 
cast down, and the oppressed go free.” 

With a heart swelling with conflicting emotions, the young man 
looked up to reply, when his words were arrested on his lips, by 
the evident change that the countenance of the other had suddenly 
undergone. The unnatural animation, which she had exhibited 
during the conversation, had faded away. She lay listless and 
exhausted, with her eyes nearly closed, and her lips slightly mov¬ 
ing in secret prayer. 

“ And now. Lord, what wait I for } ” she at length audibly ut¬ 
tered. “ But I am not to wait,” she continued, in a firmer tone, 
after a short pause. “ The final moment is at hand ! Farewell, 
earth ! farewell, my son! May Heaven’s blessings rest on you —- 
on all, and be the offences of all forgiven. Ah ! the light of day 


131 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 

is faaing; but O, that brighter light which opens! 
forms, with smiling faces, which beckon me away! 
come ! — I come ! ” 

And thus,— 


“-blessing and blest, 

In death she went smiling away 
To the heavenly bosom of rest.” 


those angel 
Keady! I 



132 


THE RANGERS, 


CHAPTER XII. 


“ Whene’er your case can be no worse, 
The desperate is the wiser course.” 


Late in the afternoon, several days subsequent to the melan¬ 
choly event described in the preceding chapter, a mingled compa¬ 
ny, of some dozens of persons, including several town officials, 
were seen assembling at the Tory Tavern, in Guilford; the object 
of which appearances seemed to indicate to be the holding of a 
magistrates’ court, to try an offender who had that morning been 
arrested, and who now, in custody of Constable Fitch, was de¬ 
murely sitting on a rude bench under an open window of the 
room in which the trial was to be had, and in which the two jus¬ 
tices composing the court had already seated themselves at a 
table, in readiness, on their part, to commence proceedings. That 
offender was no other than our humble friend, Barty Burt, who 
had lucklessly fallen into one of the snares which had been set for 
him and his suspected companions, round the country, in conse¬ 
quence of the part they had acted in spiriting away, in so strange 
a manner, Woodburn’s cattle, when about to be sold on town 
meeting day. Pie and Piper, during the night following that 
affair, after meeting Dunning at an appointed place, and giving 
him charge of the cattle, which had been successfully pursued 
and there collected, to be driven out of that part of the country 
by the hunter, left town in different directions, to avoid the arrest 
they anticipated, in case they remained ; Piper going down the 
river in quest of some temporary employment till the storm blew 
over, and Bart setting off on a fishing excursion to Marlboro’ Pond, 
situated in a then nearly unsettled section, about ten miles to the 
north. Here Bart had pursued his sport unmolested, many days, 
occasionally going out to Brattleborough to sell his fish and buy pro¬ 
visions, and considering himself in this secluded situation perfectly 
safe from any search which might be made for him by the officers 
of Guilford. But the reward offered by the constable for the ap¬ 
prehension of the offenders, who had been soon pretty well iden¬ 
tified, had put all the tories in the town and vicinity on the watch, 
and the result was, that Bart had beer, seen, traced to his retreat, 
seized and brought back for trial. 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


133 


Although Bart’s general demeanor seemed to show a jierfect 
indifference to the fate that now threatened him, yet the quick, 
keen glances with which, under that show of indifference, he 
noted every movement of those into whose power he had fallen, 
and the restlesness he exhibited when their eyes were not upon 
him, gave token of no little inward perturbation. And it was not 
without reason that his apprehensions were excited ; he knew the 
character and disposition of the two tory justices whom he saw 
taking their seats to try him, and he rightly judged that he need 
not expect either mercy or justice at their hands. He had also 
detected one of the constable’s minions, who had been despatched 
to the woods for the purpose, stealing slyly round into the horse- 
shed, on his return, with a half dozen formidable looking green 
beech rods; and he was at no loss to decide for whose back they 
were intended, or by whose ruthless hand they were to be ap¬ 
plied. 

“ You can’t go that, Bart,” he mentally exclaimed. “ You 
must get away; so now put your best contrivances in motion, for 
I tell you it won’t do for you to think of standing that pickle.” 

And as hopeless as, to all appearance, was any attempt to 
escape his captors, who stood round him with loaded pistols in 
their hands, Bart yet confidently counted on being able, in some 
way or other, to slip through their fingers, and avoid the fearful 
punishment which he knew was in store for him, if he remained 
many hours longer in their hands. To effect this, he looked for 
no aid from others; for experience had taught him the value of 
self-reliance. The whole life of this singular being, indeed, had 
been one which was peculiarly calculated to throw him on his own 
resources, sharpen his wits, and render him fertile in expedients. 
He had been a foundling, and knew no more of his parentage 
than a young ostrich, that springs from the deserted egg in the 
sand. He was left, when an infant, at the door of a poor me¬ 
chanic, in Boston, by the name of Burt, and by him transferred 
to the almshouse, where he was called after the name of his finder, 
with the pet name of Barty, given him by his nurse. Here 
he was kept till he was four or five years old, when he was 
given to the Shakers, from whom he ran away at ten or twelve. 
From that time, the poor friendless boy became a wanderer 
through the interior country, generally remaining but a few 
months in a place, being driven from each successive home by 
iriisusage, or for want of profitable work for him to do, or, what 
was still oftener the' case, perhaps, for playing off some trick to 
avenge the fancied or real insults he had received, till, after hav- 
12 


134 


THE RANGERS, 


ing been kicked about the world like a foot-ball, cheated, abused, 
cowed in feeling, and become, in consequence, abject, uncouth 
and singular in manner and appearance, he at length reached the 
situation in the family of the haughty loyalist where we found 
him. % 

While Bart was thus uneasily revolving the matter of his pres¬ 
ent concern in his mind, and beginning to cast about him for son 
means of escape, the constable was called aside by those who 
had undertaken to manage the prosecution, for the purpose of 
holding with them a consultation, the purport of which, though 
carried on in a low tone, and at some distance, was soon gathered 
by the quick and practised ears of the prisoner. It appeared 
that the trial was being delayed in consequence of the absence 
of Peters, who was an important witness, and who unaccountably 
failed to make his appearance. And it being feared that he 
might have been waylaid, and detained on the road, by some 
band of the other party, to prevent him from testifying, as all 
knew he was anxious to do, it was settled that Fitch should start 
immediately in search of him to the house which he usually made 
- his temporary quarters in another part of the town. According¬ 
ly the constable, after putting the prisoner in charge of two stout 
fellows who were in his interest, with orders to guard him closely, 
and shoot him down the instant he should attempt to escape, set 
forth on his mission after Peters. Bart’s countenance brightened 
when he saw the savage officer depart, for he believed the ab¬ 
sence of the latter would greatly increase his chances of escape ; 
and in spite of all the threats he had received of being shot, he 
resolved to improve that absence in making the attempt, though 
the manner of doing so yet remained to be decided, by the cir¬ 
cumstances which might occur. 

In the mean time a trotting-match had been got up in the road 
in front of the tavern, by a small party who had been boasting of 
the speed and other qualities of their horses; and it being now 
understood that the trial was to be delayed till the constable’s 
return, the whole company left the house, and went out to the 
road to witness the performance. Bart’s keepers not being able, 
where they stood, to see and hear what was going on very dis¬ 
tinctly, and being equally desirous with the rest to get a favora¬ 
ble stand for that purpose, after renewing the threat of shooting 
him if he attempted to run away, took him along with them, and 
entered the line of spectators extended along the road. After 
a few trials among those who began the contest, several new 
competitors led on their horses and entered the lists. By this 






OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


135 


time most of the company began to take a lively interest in the 
performance, taking sides, and betting on the success of the dif¬ 
ferent horses now put into the contest. The prisoner having, by 
this time, through dint of persevering in good humor and socia¬ 
bility, in return for the abusive epithets, by which all his attempts 
to converse were, for a while, received, succeeded, in a great 
measure, in disarming his keepers of the stern reserve and jealous 
distrust they at first exhibited towards him, he was soon permitted 
to talk freely, and offer, unrebuked, his opinions of the success 
of the various horses about to make a trial, which his previous 
observation and acquaintance with many of them, made during 
his residence in town the preceding year, enabled him to do with 
considerable sagacity. And his predictions being luckily fulfilled 
in several instances, and especially in one in which his most 
rigid keeper had been saved from losing, in a bet, which would 
nave been made but for his timely cautions, Bart at length found 
nimself on such a footing of confidence and good will with those 
whom he wished to conciliate, that he thought it would now do to 
commence, operations for himself. 

“ I don’t think much of such trotting, myself,” said Bart, 
carelessly, as one of the contests afoot had just terminated ; 
“ but there is one animal I notice here to-day, I should like to 
bet on.” 

“ What horse is that ? ” asked the keeper above designated. 

“ That dapple gray mare hitched over there in the corner of 
the cow-yard yonder,” replied Bart, pointing to a small, long¬ 
tailed pony, whose shabby coat of shedding and neglected hair 
greatly disguised the remarkable make of her limbs and other 
indications of strengtii and activity. 

“ That creature ! ” exclaimed the other, contemptuously; “ why 
she aint bigger than a good-sized sheep. You may bet if you 
want to, and lose ; for there’s not a horse on the ground but 
would beat her.” 

“ Well, for all that, Mr. Sturges,” responded Bart, banteringly, 
“ I’ll not take back what I’ve said about the nag. And to prove 
my earnest. I’ll make you an offer; I’ll bet my gun, which you 
saw me hand the landlord for safe keeping when they brought 
jne in — I’ll bet my gun against your hat. I’ll take that creature 
and out-trot you, with any boss you may choose to bring on.” 

“ Done ! ” exclaimed Sturges ; “ but you are contriving this 
up for a chance to get away, yo-i scamp.” , 

“ What should I want to get away for ? ” I haint done nothin ; 
and there’s a witness here that will swear to a thing or two fox 


.136 


THE RANGERS, 


me, when the trial comes on, guess you’ll find ; besides, aint you 
going to ride by mv side, with a loaded pistol in your hand ? ” 

“ Yes, and that amt all; I’ll put a bullet through you the instant 
you make the least move to be off.” 

“ I’m agreed to that.” 

“ Well, but will they let you take the colt for the match .? ” 

“ Guess so ; Fll venture to take her. The boy that rode her 
here has cleared out down to the brook a fishing ; but 1 know 
him, and think he wouldn’t object.” 

“ Who owns the colt ? ” 

“ Old Turner did, last year, when I lived with him ; and the 
boy is from that way, and borrowed her, likely.” 

“ Then you have rode her, have you ? ” asked Sturges, doubt¬ 
fully. 

“ Never rid her with any other boss, but know she can trot 
faster than any thing you can find here ; so you may as well 
back out at once,” answered Bart, with apparent indifference. 

Not by a jug-full, sir ; but I must look me up a horse, and fix 
matters a little first; and then, if it is thought safe for me to trust 
you to ride. I’ll go it,” returned the other, with some hesitation. 

Sturges then stepped aside with the other keeper, and, after 
consulting with him a few moments, went forward and announced 
to the company the bet offered by the prisoner, and his own 
intention of accepting it, and indulging the fellow in a trial, if 
they thought best, and would assist in measures to prevent the 
possibility of his escape. The proposal was received with shouts 
of laughter by the tories; and eager for the fun they expected to 
see in so queer a contest, they agreed to be answerable for the 
prisoner’s safety, and urged on the performance. 

The two keepers, now calling in others to take charge of the 
prisoner, while they made their preparations, proceeded to ar¬ 
range the company on both sides of the road, placing men at 
short intervals along the whole line of the course, commencing 
back about two hundred yards south of the tavern, and extending 
to the sign-post, which, standing on the edge of the beaten path 
m front of the house, had been agreed on as the goal. And not 
satisfied with this precaution, they then procured four long, heavy, 
spruce poles, and, extending them from fence to fence across the 
enclosed road leading from the tavern-yard northward, formed a 
barricade five or six leet high, which, with the strong, high fences 
on each side of the whole course, except at the starting-point, 
where no danger was apprehended, seemed to cut off the prisoner, 
even without being guarded, from all possible chance to escape 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


137 


on hora:back, as it was most feared he would do, after being 
allowed control of the reins. 

“ There, Bixby ! ” exclaimed Sturges, exultingly turning to his 
fellow-keeper, as they completed the barricade across the road be¬ 
yond the goal — “ there ! I would defy the devil to jump over this 
barrier, or any of the fences on the way, as to that matter. So 
the little rebel will hardly escape us by running his horse from 
the ground, I fancy. But we must look out that he doa’t jump 
off at the end of the race, or before, and cut into the fields. You 
may therefore station yourself somewhere between this and the 
sign-post; and if he attempts to leap from his horse and run, as 
we fetch up here, shoot him down as you would a dog, and charge 
the blame to me or Fitch ; either of us will bear it.” 

Having thus arranged every thing to his satisfaction, Sturges, 
ordering the pony we have described, and the horse he had se¬ 
lected for himself, to be brought on, then took charge of his 
prisoner and rival, and conducted him, with great show of mock 
dignity, and amidst a noisy and jeering troop of attendants, to 
the ground marked off for the place of starting, and now desig¬ 
nated by the close line of men that had been stationed across the 
road to guard against the prisoner’s escape in that direction. 
Bart, in the mean time, seemed perfectly indifferent to all these 
precautions of the tories, as well as the gibes and laughter which 
constantly greeted him on the way, and, on reaching the pre¬ 
scribed limit, quietly dropped down on the grass among the com¬ 
pany, and awaited the coming of the horses with the greatest 
unconcern. The latter soon made their appearance on the 
ground, and were immediately led up and presented to their re¬ 
spective riders. 

“ Lightfoot! ” exclaimed Bart, springing up to receive his 
chosen pony ; “ do you know me, Lightfoot ? ” 

The animal instantly pricked up her ears, and responded by a 
sort of low, chuckling whinny, by rubbing her nose against his 
arm, and by other demonstrations of recognition and pleasure, 
which plainly showed the two to have been old acquaintances and 
friends. Bart then, stripping off the saddle and handing it to a boy 
to be carried back to the tavern, again went to the head of the pony, 
and, after patting her on her neck, repeated certain words in her 
ear, which seemed to produce the instant effect of arousing her 
spirit, and making her restless and impatient for a start. After 
going through these and other ceremonies of the kind, which 
seemed greatly to amuse the company, he mounted, reined up, 
and announced himself ready for the signal. 

12* 


138 


THE RANGERS, 


After another delay, to indulge the company in the renewed 
shouts of laughter which were called forth by the ludicrous con¬ 
trast now presented in the appearance of the oddly-matched com¬ 
petitors, as the diminutive and shabby-looking prisoner sat awk¬ 
wardly mounted on his no less diminutive and shabby pony, by 
the side of the portly Sturges and his large and finely-built horse 
the signal was given, and the parties set forth amidst the en¬ 
couraging hurrahs of the crowd. Their progress, for a while 
was nearly equal ; and the pony, though very unskilfully managed 
by her seemingly raw and timid rider, continued to maintain her 
place by the side of the horse so fully, as to render the result of 
the contest extremely doubtful. But as they drew near the end 
of the course, and the horse, by the renewed incentives of his 
rider began to gain on her, she suddenly flounced, broke into a 
gallop, shot by the horse, giving him a staggering kick in the 
chops as she passed, and, in spite of the apparent efforts of her 
rider, to bring her up at the goal, plunged on directly towards the 
fence that had been thrown across the road. 

“ Whoa ! whoa ! ” cried Bart, in tones of distress and affright, 
still appearing to strain every nerve to hold in the ungovernable 
animal — whoa! whoa I help, or I shall be thrown I ” 

“ Help him there 1 stop her I seize her by the bits ! ” shouted 
Sturges, now riding up to the goal to claim the bet. 

But the perverse pony, veering about among those approaching 
on either side to seize, or head her, with sundry monitory kicks 
thrown out sidewise towards them as she went, the next moment 
reached, and, with a tremendous leap, cleared the barricade, 
and landed safely with her rider in the open road on the other 
side. Here Bart hastily made another apparent attempt to rein 
her up ; but rearing and spinning round on her heels, she again 
made a plunge forward, and set out in a keen run, making the 
ground smoke beneath her feet as she flew, with astonishing 
speed along the road ; while her rider, grasping her mane with 
both hands, and swaying from side to side, as if hardly ahle to 
keep his seat at that, continued to bawl and screech, at every 
step, “ Whoa! whoa! stop her ! stop her ! ” with all his might. 

The tories were so completely taken by surprise by these 
manoeuvres, and the unexpected feat of leaping the barricade, 
that Bart and his fleet pony were nearly a quarter of a mile off, 
before they sufficiently rallied from their astonishment and con¬ 
fusion to realize what had passed ; and when they did, hearing 
his piteous cries for help, and expecting every moment to see 
him hurled headlong from his horse, they stood doubtfuhy looking 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


139 


at him and each other, several seconds longer, before they 
thought of following him. Sturges, however, now took the 
alarm, and, ordering the barricade to be thrown down, started off, 
with those who, like himself, happened to be mounted, in pursuit. 
By this time, the fugitive had passed over an intervening swell, 
which hid him from the view of the pursuers; and though their 
progress was rapid, yet, when they gained the top of the swell, 
which commanded a view of the road till it entered the woods, 
almost a half mile beyond, he was nowhere to be seen. But 
believing he must have gained the woods, they pushed on, in the 
vain pursuit, about a- mile farther; when, meeting some towns¬ 
men, they ascertained that he had not passed in that direction. 
They then retraced their steps, carefully examining every by¬ 
path and open spot by the road-side, where any ordinary horse 
could be made to go ; but making no discoveries, they concluded 
to return to the tavern for consultation ; for they grew more and 
more puzzled to know what to make of the prisoner, or how to 
account for his mysterious escape, some affirming “ he must 
have been in league with the devil, as no horse, in a natural 
state, could have leaped that barricade, or have gone off so like 
a streak of lightning after he was over it; and his strange doings 
with the pony, when he first met her, and the bluish appearance 
that attended him along the road as he went off, with such unnat- 
tural swiftness,” were cited in confirmation. But when they 
reached the tavern, the prisoner, and every thing attending his 
escape, were for the time forgotteli in the excitement occasioned 
by the more startling tidings just received. The constable had 
just arrived in great haste, announcing that Peters had been way¬ 
laid, and found murdered in the road, and calling on all to turn 
out to arrest the unknown but suspected perpetrators of the horrid 
deed. 


140 


THE RANGEES, 


CHAPTER XIII. 


-“ despair itself grew strong 

And vengeance fed its torct from wrong.” 


On the 'Same day, and near the same hour, on which Bart so 
singularly and luckily effected his escape from his vindictive 
enemies, the bereft Woodburn left his lonely residence and 
walked to the graveyard, to shed another tear over the freshly- 
laid turf that covered the remains of his sainted mother. Here, 
as, standing over her grave, he reflected on the many excellences 
of her character, recalled the many acts of her kindness and 
love towards him, never before justly appreciated, and, at the 
same time, thought of the circumstances under which she had 
sickened and died, his tears flowed fast and bitterly. While he 
was still lingering near the sacred spot, immersed in these painful 
reflections, two ladies, from a neighboring cottage, came, unper¬ 
ceived by him, along the road leading by the graveyard ; when 
the younger of the two, wholly unconscious that any one was 
within the enclosure, left the other to pass on to the next house, 
and entered the yard to amuse herself there till her companion 
returned. Now pausing to read an inscription, and now to pluck 
a wild violet, she slowly wandered towards that part of the yard 
where Woodburn, still screened from her view by a clump of 
intervening evergreens, was pensively reclining against a tomb¬ 
stone in the vicinity of his mother’s grave. And here, taking a 
turn round the shrubbery, she came suddenly upon him ; and, 
stopping short in her course, she stood mute and confused before 
him, while her cheeks were mantled with a deep blush at the 
awkwardness of the position in which she unexpectedly found 
herself. 

“ Miss Haviland ! ” exclaimed Woodburn, looking up in equal 
surprise. “ Excuse me if I am wrong, but, as little as I was 
expecting it, 1 think it is Miss Haviland whom 1 am address- 
ing.?”_ 

“ It is, sir,” she replied, in a slightly tremulous voice; “ but 1 
trust you will not think this an intentional intrusion. ” 

“ No intrusion, fair lady. You do not rightly interpret my 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


141 


expression, which was one of surprise at seeing you here, when 
I had supposed you to be in another part of the country. When 
I last saw you, I supposed you on your return to Bennington.” 

“ I was so at that time. But having recently come over with 
my father, who was journeying to Connecticut, I am now tarrying 
with a sister in this neighborhood till he returns. Your allusion 
to our parting, however, cannot but bring to mind the circum¬ 
stances connected with our meeting, nor fail to admonish me of 
my great obligations to you, sir, which I have never before found 
a suitable opportunity of personally acknowledging. But be 
assured, Mr. Woodburn, I shall never forget that fearful hour; 
yet sooner far the hour, than the hand that snatched me from 
my seemingly inevitable doom.” 

“ We both may have cause to remember the incidents attend¬ 
ant on that journey to Westminster, Miss Haviland; and I, 
though I did but a common duty in assisting you, shall remember 
them, on more accounts than one, I fear but too long.” 

“ If you allude to your difficulties on that journey, and subse¬ 
quently with one with whom we were in company, I can only 
say, sir, that I have heard of them, and all your consequent mis¬ 
fortunes, with the deepest regret, scarcely less on account of the 
author than the victim.” ’ 

“ I could have submitted to my pecuniary losses with a good 
degree of resignation ; but, when I think of the crowning act, 
and the consequences that followed it — when I look on that 
grave,” continued the speaker, pointing to the fresh mound, with 
an effort to master his emotions, “ it is hard to endure.” 

“ Such misfortunes,” responded Miss Haviland, visibly touched 
at his distress ; “ such misfortunes,— injuries, perhaps, I should 
call them, — I am sensible, are not easily forgotten ; and I have 
sometimes feared that it too often might be my fate to be asso¬ 
ciated with them in your mind.” 

“ O, no, lady, no,” said Woodburn, promptly ; “ though it were 
better for my happiness, perhaps, if I could,” he added, more 
gloomily; “ for who will care what may be the feelings of one 
who is now an outcast, without property, family, or friends ? ” 

“ Think not thus of yourself, Mr. Woodburn,” replied the 
other, while a scarcely perceptible tinge appeared on her fair 
cheek ; “ feel not thus. You do to yourself, and I doubt not 
to many others, great injustice ; certainly to one who can only 
think of you with the warmest gratitude.” 

“ O, if all were like you. Miss Haviland!” returned Wood¬ 
burn, with much feeling; “so just, so generous, so pure, so 


142 


THE RANGERS, 


beautiful! But I have already said too much,” he continued, 
checking himself. “ I intended not to have intimated aught of 
the thoughts and feelings which have obtruded themselves upon 
me, even before I heard these kind expressions. And though 
what I have said cannot be recalled, yet I have no thought of 
pressing any questions upon you under the accidental advantage 
which your gratitude — other things being the same — might give 
me. I ask for no corresponding impressions—I expect none. 
Being aware of your position, as well as my own, I shall not drive 
you to the unpleasant task of repulsing me. I will repulse my¬ 
self. I will conquer this new enemy, though planted in my own 
bosom, lest it prove more dangerous to my peace than the one 
with whom I have so vainly contended in another rivalry.” 

She raised her eyes with a look full of maidenly embarrass¬ 
ment, indeed, but with an expression more resembling that of 
sorrow than resentment, as she gently replied,— 

“ I feel additionally grateful to you, Mr. Woodburn, for your 
delicate and generous course under the circumstances in which, as 
you seem to be aware, I am placed. But as I now perceive my 
companion approaching in the road, you will excuse my depart¬ 
ure.” 

“Certainly,” said Woodburn; “and you will forgive what 
has been said by one who is so truly the prey of conflicting emo¬ 
tions ? ” 

“ O, yes, sir,” she answered, looking up with a witching smile, 
as she bowed her adieu; “ that is, I will when you do any thing 
worthy of my forgiveness.” 

Woodburn stood mutely gazing after his lovely visitor till 
her small and graceful figure, floating on in its devious course 
through the diversified grounds in almost fairy lightness, receded 
from his enraptured sight; when he turned away with a sigh to 
commune with himself, try to analyze his feelings, weigh conse¬ 
quences, give Reason her rightful sway, and follow her dictates. 
After a long and deep struggle with his feelings, he appeared to 
come to some determination, and, resolutely bringing down a foot 
on the ground, he exclaimed,— 

“ No, never ! I will not give way to feelings which can only 
end in disappointment and mortification. Begone, enticing vision, 
begone ! I will harbor you no longer.” And under the impulse 
of his freshly-formed resolution, he abruptly left the spot, and 
hastened through the enclosure to take his way homeward. As 
he was about to pass out into the road, his attention was attracted 
by the barking of a small dog, that, having followed the ladies, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


143 


and tarried behind on their return, seemed to be intent on drag¬ 
ging out something from under a broad, flat stone lying in one 
corner of the graveyard. Feeling some inclination to know what 
discoveries the dog was making in a spot so unpromising of any 
game that would be likely to attract him, Woodburn walked to 
the spot; when he perceived the animal to be eagerly tugging 
away at some object, which presented the appearance of the cor¬ 
ners of some old, leather-bound book, buried beneath the stone. 
His curiosity being now excited, he stood by and patiently waited 
to see the result. In a few minutes the dog succeeded in drag¬ 
ging out the object in question, which proved to be an old record- 
book, or rather the remains of one, for a part of it had been 
converted by the mice into a nest, and the rest was mutilated and 
falling to pieces. Leaving the dog to pursue his object, which 
was now sufficiently explained, Woodburn gathered up the re¬ 
mains of the book and stepped aside to examine them. On 
beating off the dirt and opening the unmutilated parts, he soon, 
and to his great surprise, discovered it to be a volume of the town 
records; the very volume, the loss of which, as he believed, had 
caused his defeat in his lawsuit with Peters. And hurriedly run¬ 
ning over the leaves, his eye, the next moment, fell on the record 
of his own deed, with the dates precisely as he had contended, 
and standing in a connection which would have proved the pri¬ 
ority of his title, furnished him a complete defence, and saved 
him from ruin! 

The previous suspicions of Woodburn, respecting the dis¬ 
appearance of these records through the agency of Peters, were 
now confirmed in the mind of the former, as certainly as if he had 
witnessed the act; and this aggravating discovery, coming as it 
did too late to be of any benefit to him, and at a moment, too, 
when his feelings, notwithstanding his recent declarations to Miss 
Haviland, and his subsequent resolves, were sore from the insid¬ 
ious workings of jealousy, and the revolting thought of the pre¬ 
tensions of his hated foe to her hand — this discovery, we say, 
wrought up his mind, already imbittered to the last degree of 
endurance, to a state little short of absolute frenzy. And clinch¬ 
ing the fragments of the book, which contained the proof of the 
black transaction, in one hand, and flourishing the heavy oak 
cane he had with him in the other, he rushed out of the enclosure, 
and, with a disturbed air and hurrying step, took his way towards 
his desolate home, resolved, that in case he found, as he feared, 
that all chance of legal redress had passed by, he would, at least, 
unsparingly make use of the means now in his power in trumpet¬ 
ing the villany of Peters to the world. 


144 


THE RANGERS, 


In this state of exasperation, after proceeding a short distance, 
he unexpectedly and unfortunately encountered the very object 
of his pent indignation, the haughty and hated Peters, who, on 
horseback, was coming up a cross-road on his way to the Tory 
Tavern, where, as the reader has been already apprised, his tools 
and partisans were anxiously awaiting his arrival. 

“ Ha ! here } Then he shall be the first to hear it,” muttered 
Woodburn, as with a flashing eye he suddenly turned and sternly 
confronted the other in his path. 

“ What now, sir } ” said Peters, reigning up with a look of sur¬ 
prise not unmingled with uneasiness. 

“ I will tell you what, now, sir,” replied Woodburn, in a voice 
quivering with suppressed passion ; “ your frauds are exposed ! 
Here are the remains of those very records you or your tools 
purloined to enable you to accomplish your unhallowed triumph 
over me, and now just found buried in yonder graveyard ! ” 

“Away, sir ! ” exclaimed Peters, recovering his usual assurance. 
“ I know nothing of your crazy jargon : stand aside and let me 
pass.” 

“ Not till you have looked at the proof of what I assert, or 
acknowledged its correctness,” persisted the other, extending his 
cane before the horse with his right hand, and thrusting forward 
the open book with his left. “ Here it is ; here is the record of 
my deed — dates and all, as I and you, too, sir, well knew them 
to be. Look at it, sir, and restore me my property, or confess 
yourself a villain ! ” 

At this juncture Peters, who had covertly reversed the loaded 
whip he carried in his hand that he might strike more effectually, 
suddenly rose in his stirrups, and aimed a furious blow at the head 
of his accuser. But as sudden and unexpected as was the das¬ 
tardly movement, Woodburn threw up his cane in time to arrest 
and parry the descending implement, when, quick as thought, he 
paid back the intended blow with a force, of which, in the mad¬ 
ness of the moment, he was little conscious, full on the exposed 
head of his antagonist, who, curling like a struck bullock beneath 
the fearful stroke, rolled heavily from his saddle to the ground. 
The exclamation of triumph that rose to the lips of the victor 
died in his throat, as he took a second glance at the motionless 
form and corpse-like aspect of the victim ; and, recoiling a step, 
he stood aghast at the thought of what he had done. After stand¬ 
ing a minute with his eyes rivetted on the face of his prostrate foe, 
Woodburn, arousing himself, hurried forward, and, raising the 
head, chafed the temples and wrists a moment, and then felt for 


OIL THK TORY 5 DAUOHTEK. 


115 


the pulse, when, finding no signs of life, he suddenly relinquished 
his hold, and with a look of horror and unutterable distress, has¬ 
tily fled from the spot, muttering as he went, “A murderer! — 
to crown the host of misfortunes — a murderer! ” 

Soon striking off into a deep glade, diverging from the public 
way, he continued his course, with a rapid step and troubled brow, 
on through the woods and back pastures, till he gained, unobserved, 
the rear of his own cabin, when, entering, he threw himself into 
a chair, and, burying his face in his hands, sat many minutes mo¬ 
tionless and silent, apparently engaged in deep and anxious thought. 
At length, he arose with a more composed look, and proceeded to 
make up a pack of his wardrobe, with such valuables as could bo 
conveniently carried, including his mother’s Bible. He then fitted 
his pack to his shoulders, took down his gun and ammunition, and, 
throwing a sorrowful farewell glance round the lonely apartment, 
left the house, and bent his course for the woods, in a northerly 
direction. 

After travelling in the woods and unfrequented fields about two 
miles, he came in sight of the point of intersection between the 
road near which he had been holding his course, and a road 
coming into it from the central parts of the town. Here, con¬ 
cluding to pause till the approaching darkness should more 
perfectly screen him, before going out into the main thorough¬ 
fare leading up the Connecticut, he sat down on a log within the 
border of the woods, and again gave way to the remorseful feel¬ 
ings and moody reflections that still painfully oppressed him. 
His meditations, however, were soon disturbed by the quick, 
heavy tread of some animal, which seemed to be approaching in 
the woods, at no great distance behind him. Instantly peering 
out through the thicket in which he had ensconced himself, he 
soon, to his great surprise, descried a horseman descending a 
difficult ledge, leaping old windfalls, and making his way 
through all the opposing obstacles of the forest with wonderful 
facility, directly towards the spot where he stood concealed in the 
thicket. Knowing that whatever might be the object of the per¬ 
son approaching, it would be his wisest course to remain in his 
covert, from which he could not move unobserved, and his curios¬ 
ity being excited by the appearance of a horseman in a spot that 
would have scarcely been deemed passable for a wild deer, he 
kept his stand ; and continued to regard the advancing figure 
with the most lively interest. But owing to the thickness of the 
now full-leaved undergrowth, and the duskiness that by this time 
had gathered in the forest, he could only catch occasional 
13 


146 


THE HANGERS, 


glimpses of either horse or rider, which enabled him to 
tain nothing more than that they both were quite diminutive, and 
as it struck him, rather oddly accoutred. They continued to 
advance directly towards him till within fifty yards of his covert, 
when the horse, in emerging from a clump of bushes, which still 
enveloped the rider, stopped short, and, looking keenly into the 
thicket, gave a quick, significant snort. 

“ What’s in the wind now, Lightfoot.? ” said the rider to his 
horse, as, parting the obstructing foliage with his hands, he thrust 
out his head, and disclosed to the surprised and gratified Wood- 
burn the well-known visage of his trusty friend, Barty Burt. 

“ This is, indeed, unexpected, Bart,” said W^oodburn, stepping 
out into plain view. 

“ Harry ! ” exclaimed the other, agreeably surprised in turn ; 
“ but are you sure there are no more of you there in the bush .? ” 
he added, with a cautious glance at the thicket. 

Yes, I am alone here,” answered the former. 

“ Well, I vags now! ” resumed Bart, drawing a long breath, 
and riding forward — “ I vags, if I didn’t begin to feel rather tick¬ 
lish when Lightfoot give me that hint to look out for snakes, just 
now. But the case aint quite what it might have been, consid¬ 
ering.” 

“ Considering what } ” 

“ I know.” 

“ Of course you do, as well as what brought you here with a 
horse, in so strange a place for a horseback excursion.” 

“ Just so, Harry; same as you know what brought you here 
with a pack on your back, in so queer a route for a journey, when 
a smooth road is so near you.” 

Well knowing Bart’s peculiarities, and that it would be useless 
to try to draw from him the secret of his appearance here until 
he chose to reveal it, Woodburn, while the other dismounted and 
told his pony to be cropping the bushes in the mean time, related 
all that had transpired between himself and the victim of his 
deeply regretted paroxysm of passion, adding, at the close of his 
gloomy and self-accusing recital, — 

“ I first thought, after reaching my house, that I would return 
and give myself up to the authorities; but knowing, whether 
Peters should live or die, that I should be a doomed man in this 
part of the country, I at length brought myself, perhaps wrongly, 
to try to get out of it undiscovered. And I have now set my 
course for Boston, to join those there gathering for the approach¬ 
ing struggle for liberty. And Heaven knows with what pleasure* 
I shall now sacrifica my life in her battles.” 


OR THE Tory's daughter. 


147 


“Good! that’s grand!” warmly responded Bart, who had 
listened to the- other with many a lohew ! of surprise at his ac¬ 
companying expressions of self-condemnation for killing an antag¬ 
onist who struck the first blow — “ that’s grand ! Here is what 
goes with you, Harry; for, between us here, I and Lightfoot are 
clipping it from a predicament, as well as you.” 

“ So I suspected. But what is'it.? Let us have your story 
now.” 

“ Well, Harry, in the first place, do you know this critter I call 
' Lightfoot.? ” 

“ No ; at least I don’t now remember to have noticed the ani¬ 
mal before.” 

“ Well, it is the colt old skin-flint Turner cheated me out of, 
last year.” 

“ I think you told me something about it, but don’t recollect 
the particulars ; though I had then no doubt, I believe, but the old 
man wronged you, as I understood you worked very hard for him 
through the season.” 

“ I did, like a niggar — cause he promised to give me this colt, 
then a little snubby three-year-old, for my summer’s work, if 1 
would stay and work well for him, which I did, as I said. Well, 
supposing the colt was to be mine, without any mistake, I made z 
sight of her, named her Lightfoot, fed her, got her as tame as a 
dog, then trained her to understand certain words and signs, 
which I at last got her to obey; and whether it was to trot, run, 
or jump fences, she would do it as no other critter could. But 
just as I had got her to mind and love me, as I did Aer, my time 
was out; and I went to settle off* matters with the old man, and 
tell him I was going to take her off with me, when — rot his pic- 
tur! — he pretended he had forgot all about his promise to let me 
have her, and forbid my touching*her, saying he had paid me all 
I earnt in the old clothes which he urged on to me, against my 
will, and which were not worth one week’s work, as true as the 
book, Harry. Well, I couldn’t help crying, to be cheated so, 
and, what was worse, to lose Lightfoot. But it did no good. I 
had to come away without her, or any other pay; and, from that 
time, I haven’t seen her till to-day.” 

“ But you have not now stole and run away with her, I trust 
Bart ? ” 

“ No ; she run away with me,” replied Bart, roguishly, as 1 
can prove ; for I hollered whoa all the time, as loud as I could 
yell.” 

“ But how came you mounted upon her at all? ” 


148 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Well, Harry, that brings me to the worst and best part of my 
story, all in one; and here goes for it.” 

Bart, in his own peculiar manner, then related, with great ac¬ 
curacy, the particulars of his arrest and escape from the tories, as 
we have already described them in the preceding chapter, merely 
explaining, in addition, that Lightfoot well understood the garne, 
and knew she was to obey the signs he secretly gave her with 
his feet and hands, however loud he, or others, might cry whoa, 
or any of the terms usually addressed to horses. He then pro¬ 
ceeded : — 

“ Well, you see, as soon as I got over the hill, out of sight, I 
looked out for a hard, stony place, where Lightfoot couldn’t be 
tracked ; and, soon finding one, I leaped her over the fence, and 
made full speed for the woods’, which I luckily reached jest 
m time to wheel round in safety, and see them thundering 
along by, in the road, after me. I then took it leisurely off in 
this direction, contriving to keep mostly in the woods, where I 
had learnt Lightfoot, in riding after the cows, last summer, to be 
as much at home in as in the road.” 

“ And what do you propose to do with this horse now } ” asked 
Wood burn. 

“ Take her along with me, to he sure, Harry.” 

“And so make yourself, in law, a horse-thief, eh Do you ^ 
expect me to join company with such a character ? ” 

“ Well, now, Harry, I didn’t expect the like of that from you, 
any how,” observed Bart, evidently touched at the remark. “ The 
creature is honestly mine; and I supposed I had a right to get 
what was mine away, if I could, without going to law, which 
would help me about as much as it has you, I reckon. But sup¬ 
posing that to be law which aint right and justice, and so make 
''me out a thief, as you say, how much boot could I afford to give 
you, Harry, to swap predicaments with me ? You have just 
called yourself a murderer, which you aint, and me a horse-thief, 
which I aint, any more than you the other. Now, how will you 
swap characters ? ” 

“ Bart, you have silenced me. Injustice and oppression have 
made us both outlaws, but not intentionally wrong-doers. Let us 
still abstain from all intentional wrong, however trifling. And 
that leads me to observe, that whatever justification you may 
have for taking away the horse, you probably have none for car¬ 
rying off the bridle.” 

“ There you are out again, Hariy. That bridle, which queerly 
happened to be put on Lightfoot to-day, (as if it was kindel 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


149 


ordered I should get the beast,) is the very one I bought last fall 
to take her off with ; but being so worked up, when I left, I forgot 
to bring it away.” 

‘‘ Upon my word, Bart, you are successful to*day in making 
defences.” 

“ Always mean to be able to do so, Harry. Nobody has any 
honest claims on me in Guilford, now, nor I any on them. 1 
leave ’em with every thing squared, according to my religion.” 

“ Except in the matter of your gun, which you leave — not 
exactly won by your opponent — behind you ; do you not ? ” 

“ They are welcome to it; much good may it do ’em. It has 
gone pretty much where I calkerlated to get it off — among those 
who used me the worst; though I’d some rather it had gone to 
Fitch, who hunts some, and would be sure to try it.” 

“ That is queer reasoning, Bart.” 

“ Well, there is a head and tail to it, for all that, Harry.” 

“ What are they ? ” 

“ Why, the head, or cause, is, that the last time I shot the piece, 
I overloaded it, being for black ducks, and the charge raised a 
seam, in a flaw underside the barrel, which I could blow through. 
And the tail, or consequence, is, that the next man who shoots it 
will wish he’d never seen it, I reckon.” 

“ Ah, Bart, Bart, your religion, as you term it, is a strange 
one ! But let us now dismiss the past, and think of the future. 
If you join me for the army, what do you propose to do with your 
horse — sell her ? ” 

“ Sell her ? ” why, I’d as soon sell my daddy, if I had one. 
No, we’ll keep her between us. You, and Tom Dunning, and 
Lightfoot are the only friends I have in the world, Harry; and 
I want we should kinder stick together. So I’ve been thinking 
up the plan, that we ride and tie, or keep along together and foot 
it by turns, to-night, till we get to Westminster, when we will beat 
up Dunning, and leave Lightfoot with him, who can take her to 
sortie of his sly places over the mountain, and have her kept for 
us. Then, if one of us gets killed, or any thing, so as never to 
come back, let the other take her; and if both fail to come, then 
let Tom have her for his own.” 

And Bart’s plan being adopted, our two humble, friendless, and 
neaAy penniless adventurers left the wood, and entering the 
northern road, set forth on their destination. Wood burn fii'st 
mounting the pony and keeping some hundred yards in advance, 
and Bart forming the rear-guard, under the agreement that the 
latter, on hearing any sounds of pursuit, shouli utter Jbj «ry (sS 


150 


THE RANGERS, 


the raccoon, when both were to plunge into the woods, and remain 
till the danger had passed by. 

After travelling in this manner, and at a rapid rate, about two 
hours, without encountering any thing to excite their apprehensions 
or delay their progress, they entered a long reach of unbroken 
forest, which neither of them remembered ever to have passed 
through. But not being able to conceive where they could have 
turned off from the river road, which was their intended route, they 
continued to move doubtingly onwards some miles farther, till the 
increasing obstructions and narrowness of the path, together with 
the absence of the settlements which they knew they must have 
found before this time on the road up the Connecticut, fully con¬ 
vinced Woodburn they had lost their \Vay. And he was on the 
point of proposing to retrace their steps, when, descrying a light 
some distance ahead, emanating, as he supposed, from the hut of 
a new settler, he at once concluded to push on towards it, for the 
purpose of making inquiries of the occupants to ascertain their 
situation. In making for the light, of which, for a while, only fee¬ 
ble and occasional glimmerings could be obtained through the 
dense foliage that overhung the devious path, they at length came 
to an apparently well-cultivated opening, containing about a dozen 
acres, on one side of which stood a small, snug-looking stone 
house, built against or near a boldly projecting ledge of rocks. 
As they approached the house, their attention was arrested by the 
loud and earnest voice of a man within, engaged, evidently, in 
prayer. Concluding that the man was at his family evening de¬ 
votions, which they had no thought of disturbing, they left the 
horse at a little distance from the house, and silently drawing near 
to the door, paused and reverently listened. A confused recol¬ 
lection of the supplicant’s voice, together with his deep and fervid 
tones, his bold language, and especially the subject that seemed 
then mostly to engross his thoughts, at once awakened the interest 
and rivetted the attention of Woodburn. The great burden of his 
soul was, obviously, the political condition of his country. And, 
after vividly painting the many wrongs she had suffered from her 
haughty oppressors, and warmly setting forth her claims to divine 
assistance, he broke forth, in conclusion,— 

“My country! O my injured, oppressed, and down-trodden 
country! shall the cry of thy wrongs go up in vain to Heaven ? 
VVhll not the God of battles hear and help thee, in this the houi 
of thy peril and of thy needO, wilt thou not, Lord, extend 
thy mighty arm in her defence ? O, teach the proud Britons, 
now thronging our shores—teach them, scoffing Goliahs as they 


OR THE Tory’s DAUGHTER. 


151 


are, that there are young Davids in our land ! O, bring their 
counsels to nought! Scatter their fleets by thy tempests at sea, 
and destroy their armies on land ! Sweep them ofT by bullet and 
plague ! and — and ” — suddenly checking himself, he meekly 
added, “ and save their souls; and this. Lord, is all that in con¬ 
science I can ask for them. Amen.” 

Woodburn now gently rapped at the door, which, after a slight 
pause, was opened, and Herriot, the late prisoner of the royal 
court, stood before him. 

“ If this is Harry Woodburn,” he said, after scrutinizing the 
other’s features a moment, “he is very welcome to my hut. But 
you are not alone ? ” he added, glancing towards Bart, who stood 
several paces in the background. 

“ No,” replied Woodburn ; “ I have in company a young man 
whom you may, perhaps, recollect as the messenger that appeared 
several times at the grate of our prison at Westminster, to bring 
us news of the progress of the rising.” 

“ Ah, yes, well do I recollect that goodly youth, and have ever 
since taken a peculiar interest in him. Invite him in. All this 
is opportune, very — very,” said Herriot, leading the way into 
the house. 

After the recluse had ushered his guests into the principal room 
of his very simply furnished house, of which he and a servant 
boy, of perhaps fifteen, were the only inmates, he turned to Wood¬ 
burn, and said, — 

“ As my retreat here in the woods, and the road that leads to 
it, are known to so few, I conclude that your young friend here, 
Mr. Woodburn, acted as your guide on the occasion.” 

“ O, no,” replied the other; “ we had lost our way, having left 
the river road inadvertently, and were about to turn back, when, 
catching a glimpse of your light, we came on to make inquiries. 
We neither of us knew when we struck into the road leading 
hither.” 

“Do you agree to that statement, without any qualification, 
master Bart ? ” asked the recluse, with a doubting and slightly 
puzzled air. 

“ Well, some of it, I reckon,” answered Bart, with a look of 
droll gravity. 

“ Why, you told me, sir,” responded Woodburn, rather sharply, 
“ that you had never travelled this road before.” 

“ No more I hadn’t,” replied Bart, composedly ; “ but I didn’t 
say I didn’t know where it turned off, for Tom Dunning told me 
that.” 


152 


THK RANUliilS, 


“ Bart,” said Woodburn, seriously, “ though I am not sorry to 
have fallen in with father Herriot, yet, as between you and 
me, this needs explanation. It looks as if you purposely led me 
astray.” 

“ Well now, Harry, no offence, I hope. The thing was kinder 
agreed on, somehow, that you should come this way, when you 
left Guilford, which was understood would happen soon. If I 
hadn’t fell in with you as I did, it was my notion to take Lightfoot 
here, or at Dunning’s, and then go back and skulk there some- 
wheres till you was ready to come; but finding you and things 
all coming so handy like, when we got to where the road turned 
off, I thought I’d let you follow me into it, if you would, and say 
nothing till we got here.” 

“ I am still perfectly at a loss how to understand all this, Bart • 
and I still wish you would more fully explain it.” 

“ I will take that task upon myself; for I suppose I am some¬ 
what in the secret respecting the little plot of your friends,” sair 
Herriot, going to a chest, and bringing forward a small bag of 
money. “ This has been deposited with me for your use and ben 
efit. It is the price of your cow and oxen, sold by Dunning to ? 
drover from Rhode Island. The sum is, I believe, about fifty dol¬ 
lars, which I now deliver you, as your own unquestionable prop¬ 
erty.” 

In the explanation that now ensued, it appeared that the cattle, 
which had been rescued by the friends of Woodburn, without.his 
privity, lest the scruples it was feared he might entertain should 
lead him to interfere with the plan, were taken that night to the 
retreat of Herriot, who was made acquainted with the whole 
transaction ; and that the next day, while Dunning went up the 
river in search of a purchaser, the other, who was not without his 
scruples, also, about sanctioning the procedure, repaired to law¬ 
yer Knights for his opinion on the subject. And the latter, having 
been confidentially let into the secret, and given it as his decided 
opinion that the judgment, to satisfy which the cattle had been 
seized, was an illegal and void one, and that the cattle so seized 
might rightfully be taken for the owner, without legal process, if 
found out of the hands of the officer, the recluse returned and 
actively cooperated with the hunter ; the result of which was, tha’- 
a purchaser was soon found, who paid the money for the stock 
and immediately drove it from the country. 

This, to Woodburn, was an unexpected development. And 
now, after hearing the explanation of Herriot, being satisfied of 
the propriety of the course so generously taken by h friends ia 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


153 


his behalf, he gratefully received the money; and, in turn, while 
Bart and the servant were out caring for the pony, he confiden¬ 
tially disclosed to the recluse the painful occurrence of the after¬ 
noon which had led to his sudden flight from home, and his deter¬ 
mination of immediately joining the army, concluding by giving 
the particulars of Bart’s arrest and singular escape from the 
tories. 

“ You have acted wisely, Mr. Woodburn,” observed Herriot 
after-listening with deep interest to the recital. “ Peters may yet 
recover; but should he not, I do not view the act in so criminal 
a light as that in which you yourself have placed it. And in the 
absence of all intention of killing the man, 1 feel very clear that 
It is not a deed meriting the punishment you would be likely to 
receive, if you had put your fate into the hands of the corrupted 
witnesses who would probably have been brought against you. 
Yes, you have acted wisely in leaving that wicked Babel of tory- 
ism, and nobly in devoting yourself to the cause of your bleeding 
country. My blessing and prayers will attend you and your 
young friend, to whom, I trust, you will act the friend and adviser 
he will doubtless need. But come, Harry,” he added, taking up a 
light, and making a sign for the other to follow him, “ some new 
notions have come into my head since I became acquainted with 
you and your young friend, at Westminster, and knowing of no 
two persons in whom I take greater interest, I have concluded to 
impart something to you in confidence.” 

So saying, he led the way into the cellar, the bottom of which 
was flagged over with stones of various shapes and sizes ; when, 
pointing to a broad, flat stone lying near the centre of the room, 
he asked Woodburn to raise it. Wondering what could be the 
object of so unexpected a request, the latter, with considerable 
effort, succeeded in raising the stone to an upright position, and 
in so doing brought to view two small iron-bound casks, standing 
in a cavity beneath, and labelled, in large inky letters, “ Printer's 
Type." 

“ Printing, then, was formerly your trade } ” said Woodburn, 
inquiringly, perceiving the other not inclined to be the first to 
speak. 

“ Well, that is a respectable calling, is it not } ” said the other, 
evasively. 

“ Certainly,” replied Woodburn; “ but I had not looked for 
any immediate use for such implements in this new settlement.” 

“The contents of those casks, nevertheless, are of more value 
than you may think them, Harry, and may soon be needed for 


154 


THE RANGERS, 


the public, in the times now at hand. But what I wish to say to 
you is, in the first place, that you are not to divulge what you 
have seen to any one but your young friend, and not to him un¬ 
less you are satisfied he can be trusted, or you are about to die. 
And, in the second place, if you hear of my death, both of you 
are to come here, take possession of these casks, and divide the 
contents equally between you as your own. I have now no rela¬ 
tive that will appear to claim them. You will also find, enclosed 
in one of the casks, certain documents, which I have recently 
deposited there, explaining my wishes, as well as some secrets 
of my life connected with discoveries lately made by me, that 
interest others besides myself. This you, or the survivor of you 
two, if one should die, will do in case I am taken away. And 
even if I continue to live, my designs will probably not be altered ; 
and I shall wish to see you both again when you are permitted to 
return to your old homes. And still further, I would say, that 
should you be in want at any time, and will apply to me, I will 
dispose of enough of this property to supply your necessities. 
Now replace the stone, and let us return to the room above.” 

Woodburn knew not what to make of all this mystery, or af¬ 
fected mystery, as he believed it. But knowing the singularities 
of the man, he forebore to ask any questions, and they left the 
cellar in silence. Soon after they had returned, Bart and the 
servant came in; when a frugal meal was set before the travel¬ 
lers. And while the latter were occupied in partaking their 
repast, the recluse procured his writing materials, and penning a 
brief letter, presented it to Woodburn, saying, “ There is a letter 
of introduction to a former friend of mine, who, I understand, is 
appointed to an important command in the army now mustering 
at Cambridge. It may be of service to you. And now,” he 
added, as his guests rose to depart — “ now, my young friends 
and fellow-sufferers from oppression, go — deserve well of your 
country, and desert her not till the British Dagons are all levelled 
to the dust, which may God speedily grant. Amen.” 

In a few minutes more, our adventurers were on their way. 
And being now invigorated, both in body and mind, by what had 
occurred during their call at the retreat of their mysterious friend, 
they pressed on so rapidly, for the next three or four hours, that 
they arrived at Dunning’s cabin, in Westminster, just as the first 
faint flush of daylight appeared in the east. Here luckily finding 
the hunter already astir, cooking his breakfast, preparatory to an 
eply start on some new excursion, they joined him m his deli¬ 
cious meal, which consisted of the rich steaks of a sal i caught 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


155 


the preceding evening. And having finished their breakfast, and 
made the contemplated arrangement with Dunning, to take charge 
of Lightfoot, their now common favorite, the last-named person 
set them across the Connecticut in his log canoe ; when, looking 
back from the woody shore of the New Hampshire side, they 
bade a long farewell to the Green Mountains, whose tall, blue 
peaks were then beginning to grow bright in the rays cf the 
rising sun, and resolutely plunged into the dark recesses lefore 
them. 


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THE RANGERS; 


OR* 

THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 

A TALE, 

ILLUSTRATIVE OP THB 


REYOLTJTIONARY HISTORY OF VERMONT, 

AND THB 

NORTHERN CAMPAIGN OF 1777. 


BY THE AUTHOR OF ‘‘THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS.** 


IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. II. 


FOURTH EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

SANBORN, CARTER & BAZIN* 
PORTLAND: 

SANBORN & CARTER. 

1 8 5 G : 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by 
Benj. B. Mussey & Co., 

iB the Clerk’s office of the District Court for the District of MassacnusetlB 


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STEREOTYPED AT THE 
BOSTON STEREOTYPE POUNDBT. 







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x-V- 


THE RANGEES; 

OR, 

THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER I. 


“ We owe no allegiance, we bow to no throne; 

Our ruler is law, and the law is our own ; 

Our leaders themselves are our own fellow-men, 
Who can handle the sword, the scythe, or the pea.” 


Vermont was ushered into political existence midst storm and 
tempest. We speak both metaphorically and literally ; for it is 
a curious historical fact, that her constitution, the-result of the 
first regular movement ever made by her people towards an 
independent civil government, was adopted during the darkest 
period of the revolution, at an hour of commotion and alarm, 
when the tempest of war was actually bursting over her borders 
and threatening her entire subversion. And, as if to make the 
event the more remarkable, the adoption took place amidst a 
memorable thunder-storm, but for the happening of which, at that 
particular juncture, as will soon appear, that important political 
measure must have been postponed to a future period, and a 
period, too, when the measure, probably, would have been de¬ 
feated, and the blessings of an independent government forever 
lost, owing to the dissensions, which, as soon as the common 
danger was over. New York and New Hampshire combined to 
•catter among her people. The whole history of the settlement 





4 


THE RANGERS, 


and organization of the state, indeed, exhibits a striking anomaly, 
when viewed with that of any other state in the Union. She 
may emphatically be called the offspring of war and controversy. 
The long and fierce dispute for her territory between the colo¬ 
nies above named had sown her soil with dragon teeth, which 
at length sprang up in a crop of hardy, determined, and liberty- 
loving men, who, instead of joining either of the contending par¬ 
ties, soon resolved to take a stand for themselves against both. 
And that stand, when taken, they maintained with a spirit and 
success, to which, considering the discouragements, difficulties, 
and dangers they were constantly compelled to encounter, history 
furnishes but few parallels. But although every step of her prog¬ 
ress, from the felling of the first tree in her dark wilderness to 
her final reception into the sisterhood of the states, was marked 
by the severest trials, yet the summer of 1777 — the period to 
which the remainder of our tale refers — was, for her, far the most 
gloomy and portentous. And still it was a period in which she 
filled the brightest page of her history, and, at the same time, did 
more than in any other year towards insuring her subsequent 
happy destiny. 

In the beginning of this eventful year, the people of Vermont, 
by their delegates in formal convention assembled, had declared 
themselves independent — 

“ Independent of all save the mercies of God,” 

as the poet, who has furnished us the heading of this chapter, and 
who has so strikingly embodied the feelings of those he describes, 
has significantly expressed it. And having taken measures for 
publishing their declaration to the world, the convention closed 
their proceedings by appointing a committee, selected as combin¬ 
ing the most happily an acquaintance with form and precedent 
with a knowledge of the ways and wants of the people, to draft 
a constitution to"be submitted to a new convention, which the 
people were invited to call for that purpose. In response to that 
call, a new convention assembled at Windsor, in the month of 
July following, and proceeded, with that diligence and scrupulous 
regard to the employment of their time for which the early pub¬ 
lic bodies of this state were so noted, to take into consideration 
the important instrument now submitted to them as a proper 
basis on which to erect the superstructure of a civil government, 
suited to the genius and necessities of an industrious and frugal 
people — a people who, though keenly jealous of their individual 
rights, and exceedingly restive under all foreign authority, had 


oil THE Tory’s daughter. 


6 


yet 'declared their willingness, and even their wish, to receive and 
obey a system of legal restraints, if it could be one of their own 
imposing. For five days, from rising to setting sun, this conven¬ 
tion employed the best energies of their practical and enlightened 
minds in discussing and amending the document before them. 
But their labors for the present, if not forever, had well nigh been 
tost; for, soon after they had assembled, on the sixth day of their 
session, and while they were intently listening to the reading of 
the instrument for the last time before taking a final vote on its 
adoption, their proceedings were suddenly brought to a stand by 
the alarming news, loudly proclaimed by a herald, who appeared 
on his foam-covered horse before their open door, that Ticonde- 
roga, the supposed impregnable barrier of frontier defence, had 
fallen, and our scattered troops were flying in every direction 
before a formidable British army, that was sweeping, unopposed, 
along the western border of the state, flanked by a horde of mer 
■eiless savages, from whose fearful irruptions not a dwelling on 
;hat side of the mountains would probably be spared ! .. 

This intelligence, so unexpected and so startling, too nearly 
concerned the members of the convention, not only as patriots, 
but as men, to permit their entire exemption from the general 
consternation and dismay which were every where spreading 
around them ; and many a staid heart among them secretly trem¬ 
bled for the fate of the near and dear ones left at homes in which 
the red tomahawk might, even at that very moment, be busy at its 
work of death; while the bosoms of all were burning to be freed 
from their present duties, that they might seize the sword or mus¬ 
ket and fly to the relief of their endangered families, or mingle 
in the common defence against the haughty invaders of their soil. 
Any further proceedings with the subject on hand, at such a mo¬ 
ment, were soon perceived to be utterly impossible ; and a ma¬ 
jority of the members began to press eagerly for an immediate 
adjournment. But while a few of their number, sharing less than 
the rest in the general agitation, or being more deeply impressed 
with the importance of accomplishing, at this time, an object now 
so nearly attained, were attempting to resist the current, and pre¬ 
vent any action on the motion to adjourn, till time was gained for 
reflection, an unwonted darkness, as if by the special interpo¬ 
sition of Providence, suddenly fell upon the earth. The light¬ 
nings began to gleam through the dark and threatening masses of 
cloud that had enveloped the sky, and the long, deep roll of thun¬ 
der was heard in different quarters of the heavens, giving warn¬ 
ing of the severe and protracted tempest which soon burst over 
1 * 


6 


THE RANGERS, 


them with a fury that precluded all thought of venturing abroad. 
The )rospect of being thus confined to the place for some hours, 
and perhaps the whole day, taking from those moving it all in¬ 
ducement for an immediate adjournment, they now began to take 
a cooler view of their situation; and soon, by common consent, 
the business on hand was resumed. The reading of the consti¬ 
tution was finished ; and, while the storm was still howling 
around, and the thunders breaking over them, that instrument 
was adopted, and became the supreme law of the land.* 

One thing more remained to be done ; and that was, to consti¬ 
tute a provisional government to act till the one pointed out 
by the constitution just adopted could be established. This was 
now effected by the appointment of that small body of men since 
known as the Old Council of Safety of Vermont, and noted alike 
for the remarkable powers with which they were clothed, and 
the remarkable manner in which those powers were exercised ; 
for, from the nature of the case, and the emergency in which 
these men were called to act, they were-almost necessarily in¬ 
vested with the extraordinary combination Of legislative, judicial, 
and executive power. But this power, absolute and dictatorial 
as it was, they never abused or exercised but for the public 
good ; and in- this they were cheerfully sustained by the people, 
who felt that they were thus not only sustaining the cause of 
freedom, but the laws which were of their own providing, and 
which they were anxious should be obeyed. 

To that unique assembly, of whose origin we have been speak¬ 
ing, we propose next to introduce the reader. In obedience to 
an order of the convention, issued at the moment of its hasty 
dissolution, near the close of the memorable day 1 efore described, 
tbe different members of this newly-appointed body, many of 
whom, it is believed, were also members of the one just dissolved, 
had promptly convened at Arlington. But finding themselves 
here endangered by the near vicinity of the enemy, they had 
adjourned into the more interior town of Manchester, within 
whose barricade of mountains they could proceed with their de¬ 
liberations with little fear of interruption. And here, conscious 
that the eyes of all were turned anxiously upon them, in the ex¬ 
pectation that they would provide for the safety of the infant 

* Through inadvertence arising out of the unsettled state of the times, 
or design among the leaders who might have fears for the result, the con¬ 
stitution was never submitted to the people for their ratification or rejec¬ 
tion ; but, no questions ever being raised on account of this informality, 
it was acquiesced in as valid and binding. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


7 


state, whose destinies had been committed to their hands, they 
commenced the worse than Egyptian task devolving upon them — 
that of making adequate provisions for the public defence, while 
the means were almost wholly wanting ; for, with scarcely the 
visible means in the whole settlement, in its then exhausted and 
unsettled condition, of raising and supporting a single company 
of soldiers, they were expected to raise an army. Without the 
shadow of a public treasury, without any credit as a state, and 
W'ithout the power of taxing the people, — which, by the consti¬ 
tution just adopted, could only be done by the legislature not yet 
called, — they were required to do that for which half a million 
of money might be needed. Such were the difficulties by which 
they were met at the outset — difficulties which, to men of ordi¬ 
nary stamina and mental resources, would have been insurmount¬ 
able. But these were not men of ordinary stamina, either moral 
or mental. They had been selected by the representatives of 
the people for the qualities which would fit them to guide the 
helm of state in this difficult and alarming crisis. And, unshrink¬ 
ingly proceeding to the discharge of their high responsibilities, 
they soon evinced, by their conduct, that the confidence reposed 
in them had not been misplaced ; for the glorious results of the 
field of Bennington, and the incessant and harassing warfare on 
the flanks of the enemy which both preceded and followed that 
event, and which drew forth from its despairing leader his best 
apology for his defeat and surrender, were, far more than is gen¬ 
erally supposed, the fruits of the combined energy and talents of 
that unequalled little band of patriots and statesmen.* But the par¬ 
ticular time we have chosen for lifting the curtain from their secret 
proceedings was at the darkest and most disheartening hour they 
were doomed to experience, and before the united mind of their 
body had been brought to bear on any measure which afforded a 
reasonable promise of auspicious results. The army of Burgoyne 
was then hovering on their borders in its most menacing attitude. 
Marauding parties were daily penetrating the interior, and plun¬ 
dering and capturing the defenceless inhabitants, while each day 
brought the unwelcome news of the defection of individuals who 


* A finer tribute of praise to the Green Mountain Boys could scarcely 
have been given, than the one involved in Burgoyne’s letter to Lord Ger¬ 
main, written about the time of the battle of Bennington, in which he 
says, “The Hampshire Grants, a country unpeopled, and almost un¬ 
known, in the last war, now abounds in the most active and the most 
rebellious race of men on the continent, and hangs like a gathering storm 
on my left.” 



6 


THE RANGERS, 


had openly gone off to swell the ranks of the victorious enemy 
to whose alarming progress scarcely a show of resistance had yet 
been interposed. Nor was this the end of the chapter of trials 
and discouragements that awaited the council. Another blow 
was to be added, more calculated than all to test their firmness 
and bring home to their bosoms a sense of the perils of the crisis, 
and the necessity of immediate action, unless they should con¬ 
clude to yield at once to the current of destiny which seemed to 
be setting so strongly against them. But let us present the mor¬ 
tifying and disgraceful event, to which we last alluded, in another 
form, in which the historic pen, that thus far in this chapter has 
only been employed, may be legitimately aided by the pencil of 
fancy, while we bring the leading individuals of this body to view, 
and sketch the details of a scene as truthful in outline as it was 
important in result. 

The long summer day was drawing to a close. It had been 
thus far spent by the council, as had ^en the several preceding 
days of their session, in discussing the subject of the ways and 
means of doing something to avert the doom that hung over their 
seemingly devoted state. But up to this hour their deliberations 
had been wholly fruitless. Project after project for the means of 
raising military forces had been brought forward and discussed ; 
and each in turn had been thought to be impracticable, and had 
been consequently abandoned, till, wearied with their unavailing 
labors, and discouraged at the dubious prospect before them, they 
now began to think of giving up business for the day, when the 
door-keeper, with unwonted haste and an agitated manner, entered 
the room, and announced to the astonished members of the coun¬ 
cil the alarming tidings that one of their own body, and, until 
that day, an active participator in their discussions, had proved a 
Judas, and was now, with a band of his recreant neighbors, on 
his way to the British camp. The news fell like a thunder-clap 
on the council, producing, at first, a sensation not often witnessed 
in so grave an assemblage. But no formal comments were 
offered ; and, after the commotion had subsided, all sunk into a 
thoughtful silence, which we will improve by our promised intro¬ 
duction to the reader of the leading members of the council. 

Separated from the rest by a sort of enclosure composed of 
tables strung across one end of the apartment, which was a 
large upper room of an inn, hastily fitted up for the occasion, 
conspicuously sat the president of the council, the venerable 
Thomas Chittenden, the wise, the prudent, and the good, who waa 
to Vermont what Washington was to the Union ; and who, though 


OR THE Tory's daughter. 


9 


not possessing dazzling greatness, had yet that rare combination 
of moral and intellectual qualities which was more fortunate for 
him—good sense, great discretion, firmness, honesty of purpose, 
benevolence, and unvarying equanimity of temper, united with a 
modest and pleasing address. And by the long and continued 
exercise of this golden mean of qualities, he was destined to leave 
behind him an. honest, enduring fame — a memorial of good 
deeds and useful every-day examples, to be remembered and 
quoted, both in the domestic circle and in the public assembly, 
when the far superior brilliancy of many a contemporary had 
passed away and been forgotten. He was now something over 
fifty; but so fine were his physical endowments, and so temper¬ 
ate and regular had been his habits, that time had scarcely left a 
trace on his manly brow ; and his fair and well-moulded features 
had almost the freshness of youth. And notwithstanding the un¬ 
pretending simplicity of his deportment, and the extreme plain¬ 
ness of his dress, the large arm-chair, in which he now re¬ 
clined, furnished probably by some considerate matron of the 
neighborhood for his special convenience, could not have found, 
in the broad land, an occupant who would have filled it with more 
native dignity, or one better fitted to restrain by courteous firm-- 
ness, and by tact guide into safe and appropriate fields of action, 
the less disciplined and more fiery spirits of the body over which 
he presided. 

Let us now take a glance at the more prominent members of 
this notable little band of public conservators. Here, immersed 
in thought, sat, side by side, like brothers, as they were, the two 
Fays, those intelligent, enterprising, and persevering friends of 
freedom and state independence. And there sat the two Robin¬ 
sons, alike patriotic, and active, or able, according to the different 
spheres of action in which they were about to be distinguished — 
one in the tented field, and the other on the bench and in the 
national councils. In another place was seen the short, thick-set 
form of the uncompromising Matthew Lyon, the Irish refugee, 
who was willing to be sold to pay his passage to America, for the 
sake of getting out of the despotic moral atmosphere of the old 
world, into one where his broad chest, as he was wont to say, 
could expand freely, and where his- bold spirit could soar un¬ 
clogged by the trammels of legitimacy. In his eagle eye, in 
every lineament of his clear, ardent, and fearless countenance, 
indeed, might be read the promise of what he was to become — 
the stern democrat, and the well-known champion of the whole 
right and the largest liberty. In contrast to him, near by wa* 


10 


THE RANGERS, 


Been the tall, commanding form, and the firm and thoughtful 
countenance, of Benjamin Carpenter, who had just arrived, with 
pack and cane, from Guilford, from which he had that day come 
on foot by a route designated by marked trees, through the moun¬ 
tain wilderness, nearly thirty miles in extent. Farther on, and 
seated before an open window, was Thomas Rowley, the first 
poet of the Green Mountains. He was here because he was a 
public favorite, a trusty patriot, and something of a statesman. 
But, like most other poets, he was not without his peculiarities 
of temperament, as might have been seen by his manner and 
movements even in this staid assembly; for, as if disgusted with 
a tedious and profitless debate, and determined also not long to 
be troubled by the disconcerting news just announced, he had 
now evidently cast these cares from his mind, to indulge in the 
more congenial employment of gazing out upon the landscape, 
over which his kindling eye might have been seen to wander, till 
it rested, in rapture, on the broad empurpled side and bright 
summit of the lofty Equinox Mountain, whose contrasted magnifi¬ 
cence was growing every moment more striking and beautiful in the 
beams of the low-descending sun. On the opposite side of the room 
stood the mild and gentlemanly Nathan Clark, the future speaker 
of the first legislature of Vermont; and by his side, the dark 
and rough-featured Gideon Olin, an embryo member of Con- 
gess, was leaning against the wall, with a countenance of mingled 
sternness and gloom. 

By the side of one of the tables, in front of the president, 
might also have been seen the stout, burly frame, and the 
matter-of-fact and business-like countenance, of Paul Spooner, 
engaged in writing a despatch. And as the last, though not as 
the least, among the strongly-contrasted characters of this assem¬ 
bly of whom we propose to take note, let us turn to the youthful 
secretary of the council, Ira Allen. So much the junior of his 
colleagues was he, indeed, that a spectator might well have won¬ 
dered how he came to be selected as one of such a sage and 
elderly body of councillors. But those who procured his appoint¬ 
ment knew full well why they had done so; and his history 
thenceforward was destined to prove a continued justification of 
their high opinion of him. He was of an active, mercurial turn, 
and, as might have been seen, was not inclined to remain long 
in one place or posture. He had now thrown aside his rapid pen, 
and, with a quick, light step and deeply-cogitating air, was 
traversing back and forth the open space between his table, in 
front of the president, and the closed door of the apartment. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


11 


Both in form and feature, he was one of the handsomest men 
of his day; while a mind at once versatile, clear, and penetrat¬ 
ing, with perceptions as quick as light, was stamped on his Gre¬ 
cian brow, or found a livelier expression in his lucid black eyes 
and other lineaments of his strikingly intellectual countenance. 
Such as he appeared for the first time on the stage of public 
action was the noted Ira Allen, whose true history, when written, 
will show him to have been, either secretly or openly, the origi¬ 
nator, or successful prosecutor, of more important political meas¬ 
ures, affecting the interests and independence of the state, and 
the issue of the war in the Northern Department, than any other 
individual in Vermont, making him, with the many peculiar trails 
of character he possessed, one of the most remarkable men 
of the times in which he so conspicuously figured. 

“ I have finished, Mr. President,” said Spooner, now breaking 
the gloomy silence which had, for an unusual interval, pervaded 
the assembly — “ I have finished the despatch, suggested by your 
honor, requiring the attendance of the absent member from the 
east side of the mountain — General Bayley. And having put it 
into the form of a familiar letter, I have ventured to ehlarge 
somewhat on our perplexing situation, especially in the matter 
of the miserable Squire Spencer, whose treasonable desertion I 
little dreamed, when I commenced writing, I should have the 
mortification of announcing.” * 

“ That is well,” responded the president; “ and we must look 
up some suitable messenger to convey it to its destination. But 
I had hoped to forward, by the same hand, the despatch request¬ 
ing the aid and cooperation of New Hampshire, which has been 
deferred till some definite action of our own should enable us to 
inform the council of that state what we of the Grants propose 
to do ourselves towards the object for which we invoke their 
assistance. This they will doubtless consider essential to be 
known, before listening to our call, as otherwise they will not 
know whether they will find among us more friends to assist than 
enemies to impede them. But what can we now tell them ? ' I 


* The original letter from Paul Spooner to General Jacob Bayley, of 
Newbury, written in council, requiring the attendance of the latter, and 
j informing him of Spencer’s defection, and the gloomy situation of affairs, 
! is still preserved, and affords, notwithstanding the disheartening news it 
I communicates, a striking proof of the determination of that body to strug- 
i gle on to the last against the mountain of difficulties, which, at this dark 
' crisis, seemed to lie before them. 



13 


THE nANGERS, 


will submit to you, gentlemen of the council,” he continued, in 
a kindly expostulating tone — “ I will submit to your good sense 
and patriotism, whether it is not now time to adopt some decided 
course to be pursued. We must not be disheartened by a few 
untoward circumstances. Providence not unfrequently frowns on 
us for our own good. And who shall say, in the present instance, 
that our deliberations have not been wisely and kindly rendered 
of no effect till after Spencer’s desertion, since, had w^e adopted 
a plan of operations while he was here, the whole of it, by this 
time, had been in the possession of the British general ? But be 
that as it may, the event of this man’s apostasy, of itself, instead 
of making us timid and irresolute in action, should but render us 
more prompt and decided. The people, as we all feel painfully 
conscious, I presume, expect much from us. Shall we disappoint 
them in every thing ? Because we cannot consistently do all 
that may be expected, shall we resolve to do nothing ? 1 have 

listened to your objections to levying a general tax upon the peo¬ 
ple, as the means of raising a military force ; and, with you, I 
consider them valid ; for to infringe the constitution, just adopted, 
by an arbitrary taxation, would be setting a dangerous precedent, 
and one which would come with a bad grace from those of us 
here who helped to adopt it. No; we must resort to other means. 
We can, if we will, borrow, pledging ourselves as individuals, 
with such others as we may find willing to stand sponsors with 
us, that the state shall hereafter pay the debt; or we may resort 
to voluntary contributions. I am aware the people are unable to 
contribute much. I am aware that a great portion of the inhab¬ 
itants have been driven from their homes, and are now living on 
the hospitality of the rest. But for all this, the people can and 
will cheerfully contribute something — more, I think, than we 
should be willing to require of them. I have ten head of cattle, 
which can be spared for the emergency. But am I more patriotic 
than you, and hundreds of others in the settlement ? My wife 
has a valuable gold necklace. Hint to her to-day that it is needed 
for the public service, and, my word for it, to-morrow you will 
find it in the treasury of freedom. But is my wife any more 
public-spirited than yours and many others among us .? Gentle¬ 
men, I await your propositions.” 

During this moderate, but really well-timed and effective ap¬ 
peal of the president, drooping heads began to be raised, per¬ 
plexed and desponding countenances grew brighter, and by the 
time he had closed, several speakers were on their feet, eager to 
respond. 


OR THli TORY’S'vDAUGHTER. 


13 


“ Mr. Carpenter has the floor, I think, gentlemen,” said the 
president. 

“ I rose,” said Carpenter, “ but^ tp give my hearty response 
to the sentiments of the chair. It is time, high time, for some 
definite and decided action. Less talking and more action shall 
henceforth be my motto. I have not now, it is true, any digested 
proposition to present to the council ; but I soon will have one, 
unless others are offered ; for, in this emergency, it is little short 
of a crime to dally any longer.” 

“ Ay, action ! action ! ” responded several voices. 

“ Action let it be, then,” said Rowley, the next rising to speak. 
“ If it be true, as has been urged, Mr. President, that we cannot 
raise money by general assessment without exceeding our powers 
and disaffecting the people, and that we must depend on volun¬ 
tary contribution, which receivers, appointed for the purpose, may 
more appropriately gather in than ourselves, why are we needed 
here } I will, therefore, make a proposition, which, while i* 
will be obnoxious to none of the objections brought against other 
plans of defence, will give gentlemen as much action as they 
want. I propose, Mr. President, that each of us here, before 
any more of us run away to the enemy, seize a standard, repair 
singly to the different hamlets among our mountains, cause the 
summoning drum to beat for volunteers, and lead them, when 
obtained, to do battle in person with this Jupiter Olympus of a 
British general, who has so nearly annihilated the country by 
proclamation.” 

“ Tom Rowley all over! but a gallant push nevertheless,” 
vivaciously exclaimed Samuel Robinson, in an under tone. 
“ And yet, Mr. President,” he continued, dropping the jocose, 
and now rising to speak in form—“ and yet, if our colleague’s 
spirited proposal could be carried into effect, and men be found 
to volunteer under such military leaders as most of us would 
make,—or if the different towns, as has been suggested by others, 
would order out the militia on our requisition, — even then, it 
appears to me, we should raise a permanent and regularly enlisted 
force, to serve a rallying point or nucleus for the militia, or our 
patriotic friend’s army of volunteers. I therefore move, as I 
was about to do when others claimed the floor — I move the raising 
of a regular force, however small our means may compel us 
to make it; and as the smallest to be thought of, I will name one 
company of one hundred men, to be raised and supported by 
one of the methods suggested by the president.” 

And I,” said Clark, promptly rising — “and I, believing wo 
VOL. II. 2 



14 


THE RANGERS, 


may venture to go a little higher than that, I propose we vote 
to raise two companies of sixty men each.” 

‘‘No, no!” cried several voices; “one company! Means 
can be found for no more than one.” 

“ Yes, yes ! the larger number first, Mr. President! I go for 
two companies,” cried others. 

“ And I go for neither, Mr. President! ” said Ira Allen, 
stopping short in his walk, and turning to the chair. “ For I 
believe the council, on a little reflection, will conclude to do 
something more worthy of the character of the Green Mountain 
Boys, than the raising of the paltry force which even the best 
of these propositions involves. And I doubt not the means of so 
doing may be soon and abundantly supplied, without infringing 
the constitution or distressing the people. And I therefore 
move, sir, that this council resolve to raise a full regiment of 
men, forthwith appoint their officers, and take such prompt and 
speedy measures for their enlistment, that, within one week, 
every glen in Vermont shall resound with the stir of military 
preparation.” 

“ Chimerical! ” said one, who, in common with the rest of the 
council, seemed to hear, with much surprise, a proposition of 
this magnitude so confidently offered, when the doubt appeared 
to be whether even the comparatively trifling one of Clark would 
be adopted. 

“ Impossible, utterly impossible to raise pay for half of them,” 
responded several others. 

“ Don’t let us say that till we are compelled to do so,” said 
the patriotic Carpenter, in an encouraging tone. “ This proposi¬ 
tion jumps so well with my wishes, that I would not see it hastily 
abandoned. For, although I confess I do not pretend to see 
where the requisite means are to come from, yet some new light, 
in this respect, may break in upon us by another day. And 
could we but see our way clear to sustain this proposition, we 
should feel like men again.” 

“ Amen to all that,” responded Clark. And as the hour for 
adjournment has now arrived, I move that our young colleague, 
who offered this proposition with so much confidence in the dis¬ 
covery of a way to carry it into execution, and who is said to be 
very fertile in expedients, be appointed a committee to devise 
the wavs and means of paying the bounties and wages of the 
regiment he proposes to raise ; and that he make his report to 
the council by sunrise to-morrow morning.” 

“ Second that motion, Mr. President,” cried Lyon, in his usual 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


15 


full, determined tone of voice and strong Irish accent. “ I go for 
the whole of Mr. Allen’s proposition, means or no means. But 
the means can, must, and shall be foind, sir! We will 
put the gentleman’s brains under the screws to-night,” he con¬ 
tinued, jocosely turning to Allen ; “ and if he appears here in the 
morning empty-handed, he ought to be expelled from the coun¬ 
cil. Ay, and I’ll move it, too, by the two bulls that redeemed 
me ! ” * 

“ I accept the terms,” replied Allen, bowing pleasantly to the 
former. “ Give me a room by myself, pen, ink, paper, and a 
lamp, and I will abide the condition.” 

“ For your lamp, Mr. Allen, as your task is to discover money 
where there is none, I advise you to borrow the wonderful lamp 
of Aladin,” gayly added Rowley, as the question was put, and 
carried ; and the council, in a half-serious, half-sportive mood, 
broke up, and separated for the night. 

At sunrise, the next morning, as had been proposed, the 
council punctually assembled to receive the promised report of 
their committee. Most of them, from having lodged in the same 
house, were aware that Allen had spent the whole of the inter¬ 
vening time on the business which had been committed to his 
charge ; for, hour after hour, during that important night, they 
had lieard the sound of his footsteps, as he continued to walk his 
solitary chamber, intensely revolving in his teeming mind the 
vexed question, upon the decision of which he felt the last 
chance of making a successful stand against the invaders of the 
state would probably depend. And this and the expectation, which 
had somehow been generally raised, that he would present some 
feasible plan for c^arrying out his proposals, the character of 
which no one could conjecture, caused his appearance to be 
awaited with no little curiosity and solicitude. They were not 
left long in suspense; for scarcely had the president called the 
council to order, before Allen came in, holding in his hand an 


* MatthcAV Lyon, who very soon became much noted as a leading 
partisan in the legislature of Vermont, and subsequently more so as 
member of congress from Kentucky, having, as before intimated, been 
sold to pay his passage from Ireland to Connecticut, where he landed, 
was afterwards redeemed by the payment of a pair of bulls to the pur¬ 
chaser, by a gentleman of that state, for whom he was permitted to labor, 
at liberal wages, till this novel kind of indebtedness was cancelled. And 
as this bold and singular man entered upon the scenes of life as a success¬ 
ful freeman, he was fond of boasting of the romantic manner in which he 
became one, while the expression, “ By the two bulls that redeemed me,” 
became his favorite oath on all occasions. 




16 


THE HANGERS, 


open sheet of paper, to which, as the yet nr.-iried ink showed, he 
had just committed the result of his night’s labor. 

“ Is tlie committee, appointed at adjournment last evening, pre¬ 
pared to make his report ? ” asked the president. 

Fully, your honor,” promptly responded Allen, who accord¬ 
ingly then rose and said,— 

“ My report, Mr. President, consists of two parts. The first 
comprises the nomination of a list of officers, from colonel to ^ 
subaltern, for a regiment, to be styled The Rangers. The second 
part involves the subject more particularly committed to me, and 
proposes the means of raising and supporting them. As the 
first will be useless unless the second is adopted, I will submit it 
without present reading, and proceed at once with the second 
and more important proposition, which, after a long and patient 
consideration of every argument for and against the measure, I 
have concluded to recommend to the council, as the best and 
most effectual means of securing the desired end. And that 
proposition, for the sake of convenience, as regards the action of 
the council on the principle involved, I have thrown into the form 
of the following resolution ; — 

“Resolved, That by specific decree of this council, and-under 
regulations hereafter to be made, the estates, both real and per¬ 
sonal, of all those who have been, or hereafter may be, identified 
as tories, aiders and abettoi's of the enemy, within this state, be 
confiscated for the military defence thereof; and that so much 
of said estates as may be needed for the payment of the bounties 
and wages of the regiment now proposed to be raised, be forth¬ 
with seized, and within ten days sold at the post, for that pur¬ 
pose, by the officers appointed by this council to execute its 
orders and decrees in that behalf.” 

The speaker, without offering any further remark in explana¬ 
tion or defence of the measure he had reported, resumed his seat, 
and calmly awaited the expression of the council. But they 
were taken by such complete surprise by a proposition at that 
time so entirely new in the colonies, so bold and so startling in 
its character, that, for many minutes, not a word or whisper was 
heard through the hushed assembly, whose bowed heads and 
working countenances showed how deeply their minds were 
engaged in trying to grapple with the momentous subject, upon 
which their action was thus unexpectedly required. At length, 
however, low murmurs of doubt or disapproval began to be 
heard ; and soon the expressions, “ unprecedented step ! ” — 

“ doubtful policy ! ” and “ injury to the cause ” became dis- 


OR THE XOKX:2s daughter. 


17 


tinguishable among the over-prudent in different parts of the room; 
when Matthew Lyon sprang to his feet, and, bringing his broad 
palms t9gether with a loud slap, exultingly exclaimed,— 

The child is born, Mr. President! My head has been in a 
continual fog, every hour since we convened, till the present mo- 
knent; and I could see no way by which we could even begin to 
do all that the exigency required, without running against law, or 
distressing the people. But now, thank God, I can see my way 
out. I can now see, at a glance, how all can be speedily and 
righteously accomplished. I can already see a regiment of our 
brave mountaineers in arms before me, as the certain fruits of this 
bold, bright thought of our sagacious and intrepid young colleague. 
Unprecedented step is it ? It may be so with us timid republicans ; 
but is it so with our enemies, who are this moment threatening to 
crush us, because we object to receive their law and precedent : 
How were they to obtain the lands of the half of Vermont, which, 
it is said, they recently offered the lion-hearted Ethan Allen, if he 
would join them, but by confiscating our estates ? What has be¬ 
come of the estates of those in their own country, who, like our¬ 
selves, have rebelled against their government? From time 
immemorial they have been confiscated. Can they complain, 
then, at our following a precedent of their own setting ? Can they 
complain because ive adopt a measure, which, in case we are van¬ 
quished, they will not be slow to visit on our estates, to say nothing 
of our necks ? Can these recreant rascals themselves, who have 
left their property among us, and gone off to help fasten this very 
government upon us, complain at our doing what they will be the 
first to recommend to be done to us, if their side prevails ? Where, 
then, is the doubtful policy of our anticipating them in this meas¬ 
ure, any more than in seizing one of their loaded guns in battle, 
and turning it against them ? Injury to the cause, will it be ? — 
Will it injure our cause here, where men are daily deserting to 
the British, in belief that we shall not dare touch their property, 
to strike a blow that will deter all the wavering, and most others 
of any property, from leaving us hereafter ? Will it injure our 
cause here to have a regiment of regular troops, who will, per¬ 
haps, draw ipto the field four times their number, in volunteers ? 
If this be an injury, Mr. President, I only wish we may have a 
few more of them ; for, with a half dozen such injuries, by the 
two bulls, we would rout Burgoyne’s whole army in a fortnight. 
Yes, Mr. President, this measure must go; for it promises every 
i tiling to cause, and threatens nothing that honest patriots need 
2 * * 



18 


THE RANGERS, 


fear; and had I a hundred tongues, they should all wag a good 
stiff ay for its adoption.” 

“ A bold measure, boldly advocated ! ” next spoke Carpenter, 
“ But as bold as it is, Mr. President, I rise not to condemn it, but 
rather to say, that I am determined to meet it fairly, and without 
fear; and if, when I get cool enough to trust myself to make a 
decision, the objections to it appear no more formidable than they 
now do, I will give it my hearty support.” 

“ If the public should call this a desperate remedy, they must 
recollect that it is almost our only one,” remarked Olin, in his 
cool, quiet manner. “Nothing venture, nothing have;—let us 
go for it who dare ! ” 

“ Let us oppose it who dare ! ” warmly responded Lyon. “ The 
measure will be a popular one ; and let it once be known among 
the people, as I promise gentlemen it shall be, that this proposi¬ 
tion was considerately recommended to us by a committee we ap¬ 
pointed for the purpose — let this be known, and who among us has 
nerve enough to stem the storm of popular indignation that will 
burst on his head, for the timid and cowardly policy which led 
him to go against it” 

“Vermont,” added Rowley — “ Vermont was the first to show 
her sister states the way to take a British fort; let her also be the 
first to teach them the secret of making tories bear their proportion 
of the burdens of the war. I am already prepared to give the 
measure my support, Mr. President.” 

Almost every member, in turn, now threw in a few observations. 
The doubts and fears of the more cautious and wavering gradually 
gave way; and it soon became evident that the measure had 
found too much favor with the council to be resisted. Lyon, with 
his rough and pithy eloquence, had broken the ice of "timidity at 
the right moment; and he and the originator of the measure, at 
first the only unhesitating members of the assembly, perceiving 
the gathering current in its favor, now warmly followed up their 
advantage ; and, within two hours from its introduction, '4ie resolu¬ 
tion was adopted. This was immediately followed by the passage 
of the decree named in the resolution, specifying the names of 
those thus far fairly identified as openly espousing the British 
cause in Vermont, and declaring their estates forfeited to its use. 
Allen’s proposal to raise a regiment of rangers was then, as a 
matter of course, unanimously carried, and the officers he had 
nominated were, with a few alterations, as unanimously appointed. 
All were now animated with a n3w spirit. Hope and confidence 
had taken the p'ace of doubt ajd despondency in their bosoms, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


19 


and the remainder of the day was spent in carrying out the details 
of their plan, which all agreed should now be pul in execution, 
with the greatest possible promptitude and secrecy. In this, as 
soon as the dilferent appointments, made necessary for the execu¬ 
tion of the decree, were completed by the united action of the 
council, all the members, individually, took an active part. And 
for many hours, they might have been seen sitting round the ta¬ 
bles, silently and intently engaged with their pens ; some in draft¬ 
ing despatches to be sent to New Hampshire and Massachusetts, 
some in writing confidential letters, unfolding their plan, and ask¬ 
ing the cooperation of the leading men in the different parts of 
their own state, and some in making out commissions for the 
military officers, or the commissioners and other officers of con¬ 
fiscation ; while others were out, scattering themselves about 
town, warily and cautiously inquiring out prompt and trusty mes¬ 
sengers, to be despatched, as soon as it was dark, simultaneously 
and post-haste, to convey these important missives to their differ¬ 
ent destinations round the country. And all being accomplished, 
— the blow struck, and the machinery put in motion, — the 
council concluded to adjourn, to meet again in a few days at 
Bennington, the interim to be spent by them in repairing to their 
respective spheres of influence among the people, and there taking 
an active part in defending and explaining their measures, and 
assisting to carry them into operation. 

Such was the origin of those temporary tribunals in Vermont, 
subsequently termed courts of confiscation, which formed a prom¬ 
inent feature in her early history, and which furnished, it is be¬ 
lieved, the first example of the exercise of this extraordinary 
power ever known in the United Colonies during the revolution¬ 
ary struggle. And whatever may have been the effects of this 
retributive policy in other states, its results here were salutary 
and important. It put an immediate stop to any further espousing 
of British interests, especially among men of property, while, 
within the astonishingly short space of fifteen days, it brought a 
regiment of men into the field, well armed and prepared for in- 
stanliiservice, — thus securing those advantages to the defenders 
of liberty, in the peculiar posture of their affairs in which it was 
introduced, and giving that impetus to their military operations, 
without which the brilliant successes that marked the ensuing 
campaign in Vermont could never have been obtained. Of this 
there can scarcely be a doubt. And scarcely less doubt can 
there be, that the important measure in question would not have 
been brought forward and adopted at the crisis, in which alone 


20 


THE llAI^CrERS, 


the advantages it then secured could have been derived from it, 
but for its sole projector, the sagacious, scheming, and fearless 
Ira Allen. 

Speculative writers have often amused themselves in tracing 
great events to small causes. And in this they have oftentimes 
so wonderfully succeeded, as to show, beyond the power of man 
to refute, some of the most trivial circumstances of life, considered 
by themselves, to have caused the revolutions of empires. Were 
we to make out an instance of this character, to be added to the 
many other remarkable ones which have been noted by the curi¬ 
ous, it should be done by tracing the independence of America to 
the measure which Allen so boldly projected, as he walked his 
lonely chamber, on the eventful night we have described. The 
independence of the colonies was, at that dark crisis, balancing, 
as on a pivot; and the success of Burgoyne must seemingly 
have turned the scale against us. The success of Burgoyne, at 
the same time, hung on a pivot also; and the victory of Benning¬ 
ton, with all its numberless direct and indirect consequences, as 
now seems generally conceded, turned the scale of his fortunes, 
when his success, otherwise, could scarcely have been doubtful. 
But the victory of Bennington would never have been achieved 
but for the decided and energetic movement of Vermont, which 
alone secured the cooperation of New Hampshire, or, at least, 
insured victory, when, otherwise, no battle would have been haz¬ 
arded. And that essential movement of Vermont would never 
have been made but for the bold and characteristic project of 
Ira Allen. 

All this, to be sure, is but supposition; but who can gainsay 
its truthfulness? 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 




CHAPTER II. 


“ Say what is woman’s heart? — a thing 
Where all the deepest feelings spring; 
And what its love? — a ceaseless stream, 
A changeless star—an endless dream — 
A smiling dower, that will not die — 

A beauty and a mystery I ” 


While the scenes last described were occurring at Manchester, 
in the Council of Safety, whose secret and unforeseen action was 
about to be felt in the remotest corners of the state, an athletic, 
well-formed, though plainly-dressed young man, whose fortunes, 
in common with those of hundreds around him, were suddenly and 
unexpectedly to be affected by the movements of that body, might 
have been seen, in the evening twilight, moving, with slow and 
apparently hesitating steps, across a new-mown field, towards a 
neat and commodious dwelling, situated on the main road lead¬ 
ing from the town just named, to the south, and near where it 
entered the then fast increasing little village of Bennington. 
Though he wore no regular military uniform, or arms that were 
visible, yet there was that in his gait, manner, and general ap¬ 
pearance, which indicated the recent occupation of a soldier; 
while the natural cast of his bold, manly features, and the clear, 
calm, and steady expression of his fine countenance, all combined 
to show him a man of coolness and courage ; and that, conse¬ 
quently, the seeming timidity and indecision of his present move¬ 
ments were attributable to some passing doubts respecting the 
issue of the business on hand, or other causes of a similar char¬ 
acter, rather than any general want of firmness and resqlution. 
After advancing within a stone’s throw of the house, he turned 
into a clump of small trees, which, extending along the outer 
border of an unenclosed garden to the north of the establishment, 
had concealed his approach ; and here taking a position that 
commanded a view of the front and rear entrances of the house, 
he seemed to await some expected event, with manifestations of 
considerable uneasiness and solicitude. In a few, moments, a 
slight stir, as of company taking leave, was heard in the front 
part of the house ; and very soon a fashionably-dressed personage, 





S2 


THE RANGERS, 


of a somewhat swaggering deportment, accompanied with many 
of those supercilious airs with which the colonial loyalists of 
the times often thought to dignify their carriage among despised 
republicans, made his appearance in the yard, where, equipped 
for riding, stood a stout, well-conditioned horse, which he ap¬ 
proached and led out some distance into the road, preparatory to 
mounting. He then paused, and, with a hasty glance around 
him, covertly drew forth, from a concealed girdle apparently, a 
pair of good-sized pistols, and carefully examined their flints and 
priming ; after which he replaced them, and, vaulting into his 
saddle, rode leisurely away along the road leading northward. 
In the mean time, the person first described retained his position 
within his leafy concealment, where, unseen himself, he had seen 
and watched from the first, with keen interest, all the movements 
of the other, whom, at length, he seemed to recognize, with 
recollections which caused him to recoil, and his whole counte¬ 
nance to contract and darken with angry and disquieting emo¬ 
tions. He was not allowed much time, however, for indulging 
his disturbed feelings ; for scarcely had the object of his annoy¬ 
ance disappeared, before his attention was attracted by a slight 
rustling sound somewhere within the garden ; when, turning his 
head, the frown that had gathered on his brow suddenly gave 
place to a look of joyful animation, as his eager eye caught a 
glimpse of the light, fluttering drapery of a female, who, with 
soft, rapid tread, was gliding along the outer edge of the screen¬ 
ing shrubbery towards him. The next instant he was at her 
side, ardently grasping her half-proffered hand, and tenderly 
gazing into her sweetly-confused countenance. 

“ How grateful,” he began, after a broken salutation —“ how 
grateful I should be for this obliging attention to the note I sent 
you, soliciting a meeting which-” 

“ Which my gallant preserver of old will be pretty sure to 
misconstrue, I fear me,” interrupted the maiden, with a half- 
murmured, sportive laugh. 

“ No, Miss Haviland,” he replied, too intent on a serious 
demonstration of his feelings to respond in the same spirit — “ no, 
I am not so presuming; nor do I wish to count on the former 
service, which you so magnify, and which has induced you, per¬ 
haps, to grant this interview.” 

“ In part, I confess,” was the answer to this implied question. 

“ I suspected —I feared so,” he rejoined, despondingly. “Would 
to Heaven you could have acted entirely aside from that motive, 
and then I might have found cause to hope. But now,” he 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


23 


added, with suppressed emotion — “ now- But O, how can I 

narbor the chilling thought of being doomed to love without a re¬ 
turn ! Say, fairest and best, must this indeed be so ? ” 

The downcast look and the quick-heaving bosom were the 
only reply ; and the impassioned lover, gathering courage even 
from these uncertain indications, proceeded : — 

“ Years, eventful years, have passed away, my dear Miss Havi- 
land, since your face, like some unexpected vision, first greeted 
my sight, and its image, at the same moment, as a thing not to 
be resisted, sunk deep into my heart. And there, from that 
hour to this, it has constantly remained — remained in spite of 
, all my attempts to exclude it; for I struggled hard to banish it, 
as I had so much reason to do. You were the daughter of wealth 
and prosperity — I the son of poverty and misfortune ; and, what 
was more revolting to my pride, you were found with my polit¬ 
ical opponents — my oppressors — nay, in the closest connection, 
apparently, with my bitterest foe. But with all the aid which 
these thoughts and associations were calculated to lend me, I 
struggled in vain. And when I was driven, poor, sorrowing, and 
desperate, from my home, by the wrongs and insults of this same 
man, of whose position towards you I was not left in doubt, I 
carried that image with me. It would not be eradicated ; it 
would not even fade ; but became more deeply impressed, and 
grew more and more vivid with time and change. In the stir¬ 
ring ^scenes of military life into which I then entered, — in the 
hour of battle, the exhausting march, the horrors of a prison- 
ship, the perilous escape, and the lone wanderings through the 
wilderness, till I again reached the soil of freedom, — in all these, 
the impress remained unvveakened, constantly presenting itself to 
my thoughts by day, and shaping my dreams by night. And it 
was this, when, on my return, I came into this quarter, where I 
had learned our scattered troops were rallying, and where I found 
myself near you — it was this that brought me to your father’s 
dwelling — it was this, which, in spite of the coldness of my 
reception by all but yourself, urged me to the repeated visit, in 
which I was driven with insults from your house.” 

“ Not by me, Mr. Woodburn,” interposed the fair listener, in 
kindly and earnest tones — “not by me, nor by my consent or 
sanctioning. And it was mainly to show you this that I was 
induced to grant your request for this, on my part, I fear, im¬ 
prudent meeting. No ! O, no, sir, I have never forgotten — I can 
never forget — to whom I am indebted for my life ; and gratitude, 
as well as respect for his general character, will ever forbid 




24 


THE RANHEES, 


aught but kind and courteous treatment at my hands. And I hope 
you will make some allowance for my father, who feels _so 
strongly that the people, whose cause you espouse, are criminally 
wrong.” 

“1 do make an allowance,” responded Woodburn — “great 
allowance for his imbittered state of mind towards the defenders 
of the American cause ; but does that fully account for the 
course he pursues towards me ? ” 

“ To be frank with you, sir, it does not,” she replied, after 
some hesitation. “ There are those often with my father, who 
are not backward in fanning his prejudices, and perhaps in insti-' 
gating the undeserved treatment you have received. I may be 
unwise in saying this ; but justice to all, it appears to me, requires 
that you should be apprised of it. You will not surely make use 
of this to embroil us ? ” 

“ Certainly not; but what you communicate is hardly news to 
me. I well understand that the principal one of those to whom 
you allude is no other than the person who just rode away from 
your house.” 

“ You saw him, then > I am thankful you did not come in 
collision with him; for he is a man you must avoid. Yes, that 
was indeed Colonel Peters.” 

Colonel Peters! Colonel, did you call him ? Has he, then, 
actually joined the British forces, and received a commission for 
such a post in their army } ” 

“ Yes; but I had supposed this was known, else I might have 
hesitated to disclose it, lest his frequent visits here might implicate 
my father, who, I hope, may be induced to remain neutral in this 
unhappy contest.” 

“ Fear not, fair friend. No advantage shall be taken of this, 
through my means, to the injury of your father. But, tell me, 
does that officious adviser of your father still urge a suit, and 
plead an engagement, of which, 1 have inferred, you would not be 
Sony to be relieved } ” 

“ He does,” answered the maiden, sadly — “he does urge a 
suit, and insist on an engagement, of which he knows I wish to be 
relieved.” 

“ Why should he do this } ” 

“ Per laps he counts on the effect of events to reconcile me — 
events which he seems to expect will shortly happen — the com¬ 
plete triumph of his cause, the disgrace, banishment, or death of 
its opposers, and his own elevation thereby to stations which, he 
thinks, no woman will refuse to share with him. He count* 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


25 


much also, probably, on the aiding influence of my father, who 
feels warmly interested in his success, and believes with the other, 
that he, who is so loyal, while so many of his standing are other¬ 
wise, cannot fail of reaping a brilliant harvest of rewards, which, 
with the connection they propose, will reflect lustre on our family.” 

“ Then it does not occur to them,” said Woodburn, with a smile 
at this specimen of that loyal air-castle building in which the tories 
of the revolution seemed to have so extravagantly indulged — “ it 
does not occur to them that it is even possible these splendid 
schemes may fail, in the failure of their cause in this country, 
which has thus, in anticipation, been parcelled out into dukedoms 
and lordships, to reward its sanguine adherents ? ” 

‘^One would think not, from their conversation on the subject,” 
replied the other. 

“And what thinks s7ie, whom they would have so much inter¬ 
ested in this great issue.?” asked Woodburn, encouraged to the 
question by the manner and tone of her last remark. “ Has it 
never occurred to her mind that their cause, as strong as they 
deem it, is destined to fail; that even this vaunting army, which 
hangs so menacingly on our borders, may be swept away by the 
vengeance of a wronged, an insulted, and now aroused people; 
and that this despised people have right and Heaven on their side ; 
and by the blessings of that Heaven, while they do battle in the 
consciousness of that right, will yet triumph, and become an inde¬ 
pendent nation, to which even her present haughty foe will do 
reverence ?” 

“ It has,” replied the maiden, warmly and with emphasis — “ it 
has, Mr. Woodburn; and —why should I attempt to conceal it } — 
and I have wished — for I could not help it, though against the 
feelings, and, perhaps, the best interests of a generally kind 
parent —I have long secretly wished, and even prayed, for your 
success; because I could not stifle the conviction of the truth of 
what you assert respecting the wrongs of the American people, 
and the justice of their cause.” 

“ Sabrey Ilaviland,” exclaimed the surprised and delighted 
lover, “ as long as I have respected and loved you, I have never, 
till this moment, known you — never half appreciated the worth 
of your character ! ” 

“ What.you may appreciate highly, sir, others may as highly 
condemn,” she meekly responded. “ I have said more to you 
than I have ever expressed to human being; and I may be wrong 
—• wrong in saying it to you — wrong in saying it or believing it 
ei all.” 

VOL. II. 


3 





26 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Wrong ? O, no, no, noble girl! ” he rejoined, with increasing 
animation ; “ no,you are not wrong; you are right — right in your 
convictions, Hght in the wisii, the prayer, and the declaration. 
Men will honor your honest independence, exercised against so 
much to bias and prejudice, so much to tempt and dazzle you; 
and Heaven will approve and bless you. But with such senti¬ 
ments,” he added, in tenderly expostulating accents — “ with such 
sentiments, dear lady, will you doom me to plead my heart’s 
cause in vain ? Will you still adhere to a lover active in the 
work of oppression which you condemn, and reject his rival, 
equally active in the cause you approve and pray for 

“ I see my error, Mr. Woodburn,” she replied, with an air of 
self-reproach and of slightly-offended pride, which, however, gave 
way to kindly tones, as she proceeded ; “ I have unintentionally 
helped you to an argument, while I am constrained to decide that 
no argument, so long as I stand in my present position, must pre¬ 
vail with me. Do not, then, O, do not press me with questions 
like these. You know not the extent of my perplexities, and I 
may not explain. Besides, are these the times to engage in such 
affairs, when the next hour may lead to an eternal separation, 
or place our respective destines as wide as the poles asunder ? ” 

“ But will you not allow me even to hope for the future t ” still 
persisted the lover. 

“ Why should I bid you tantalize yourself with hopes so likely 
to prove futile, when nobler thoughts should engross you.? Look, 
Mr. Woodburn,” she said, pointing, with charming enthusiasm, 
towards the distant summits of Manchester, then beginning to be 
dimly visible in the rays of the rising moon, “cast your eyes 
northward ! Beneath yon blue mountains is gathered the council 
of your people. There also rolls the recruiting drum of your brave 
Warner, who needs men like you; or if, as you intimated, you 
are waiting to engage in a different corps, which your council is 
expected to raise, would not your attendance there be more 
worthily bestowed, than in adding to the perplexities of one al¬ 
ready so thickly surrounded with difficulties, and one who, to your 
suit, cannot say yea, while she would be pained to say nay.? ” 

“ Cruel girl, but noble in your cruelty ! ” exclaimed Woodburn, 
with mingled disappointment and admiration. “ I will forbear to 
press my suit for the present, but not forever. I will heed the 
lesson of patriotism you have given me, but only to remember my 
fair prompter with deeper devotion.” 

“ Hark ! ” said the other, starting ; “ I hear my father’s chiding 
voice in the house, inquiring for me. I must go. Adieu, Mr. 


OR THE Tory’s DAijaiiTEn. 


27 


Woodburn. With this tendered hand of friendship and gratitude, 
adieu.” 

“ If it must be so, my precious, my beautiful one, farewell to you, 
also.” 

Lips uttered no more, but the mute pause that followed, while 
eye met eye, and hand lingered in hand, was not meaningless. 
The fond lover was not permitted, however, to prolong the entran¬ 
cing moment, which, as the slightly-returned pressure of the small 
white hand, closely imprisoned in his own, told him, had not been 
reluctantly vouchsafed him ; for, quickly arousing herself, the 
maiden broke from his clinging grasp, and tripped silently away, 
leaving him gazing after her retreating form, and listening to the 
soft and decreasing sounds of her light footsteps upon the grass, 
till the jar of the closing door, to which she had directed her 
devious course, made him feel that he was alone, and that the 
charm of the place was gone. 

With a sigh, he turned from the spot, and soon gained the 
highway ; when, taking the direction in which his rival and foe 
had departed, he walked musingly onward, heedless alike of the 
cool and balmly air of the evening, or the quietly reposing beau¬ 
ties which the light of a full moon, now beginning to peer over 
the eastern hills, was gradually unfolding around him, and intent 
only on the dreamy images with which love and his new-fledged 
hope seemed conspiring for a while to amuse his willing mind. 
At length,' however, a quickened pace, a firmer tread, and r 
prouder bearing, showed that a. different and less peaceful trair 
of thought was springing up within. 

“ So this evil genius of mine, it seems,” he muttered, “ wh< 
forever appears in my path to snatch from me every prize I so- 
my heart on, is secretly an officer in the British service, com 
missioned, probably, to head a regiment of tories, whom he is now, 
by his false statements and delusive promises, attempting to gathei 
from the weak and wavering of our overawed people. This 
must be instantly made known. Heavens! what effrontery! — 
to be playing the spy under the garb of pretended neutrality, and 
seducing away the deluded men under our very noses, to lead 
them back to fall with fire and sword on their kindred and neigh¬ 
bors ! And I am to be the particular object of his vengeance, I pre¬ 
sume, from the significant hint she gave me to avoid him. Avoid 
him ! He shall be spared much trouble to find me if that is what 
he wants. He is now the country’s foe, and lawful game with me. 
I would that I could meet him to-night — yes, this night; and if I 
thought I could overtake him — stay, why can’t this be done— 


28 


THE KANGERS, 


only three miles start, probably, and on a moderate trot; while my 
horse is a fleet one, and — and — we will try it.” 

By this time he had reached a log-house, and barn of the same 
materials, which fronted a small opening on the left side of the 
road, and which was the residence of a recently-married and here 
settled friend, in whose care he had left his horse before proceed¬ 
ing, as on the lady’s account he did, through the adjoining_wood 
and Haviland’s broad fields beyond, to the clandestine interview 
with her that we have described. And now turning in towards 
this rude establishment,he hastily proceeded, without calling at the 
house, directly to the barn, that was partially enclosed by one of 
those close-laid, high, pole fences which the settlers usually con¬ 
structed round their barns to protect their flocks against the depre¬ 
dations of wild beasts. Within this strong enclosure, the owner’s 
cattle, consisting of a pair of oxen, cow, and two or three young 
creatures of the same species, were now quietly chewing their 
cuds, with those occasional wheezing grunts, which with them 
seem so indicative of animal enjoyment; while in one corner 
stood the horse of which Woodburn was in quest— a little model 
of a creature, of a lively, attent appearance, as now particularly 
manifested by a low, earnest, recognizing whinny, and by in¬ 
stantly starting off, in a sort of half trot towards the bars of the 
enclosure, as her master came up on the other side. 

“ Yes, yes, Lightfoot, you shall go now, and as fast as you de¬ 
sire, this time,” responded the latter, throwing himself over the 
bars, and patting the animal on the neck, as he passed on to the 
barn for his saddle and bridle. 

To equip his willing steed, examine the trusty pistols, which, 
like his foe, he carried about his person, let down, pass through, and 
replace the bars, occupied him but a moment, and he was about 
springing into his saddle, when he was hailed from the house. 

“ Halloo, there, Woodburn, is that you ? ” exclaimed a cheerly 
voice, as a stout-built, crank, honest-looking young man, without 
hat or coat, came out of the door, and with a free and careless 
air made his way towards the other; “ but what is your hurry ? 
Nothing unpleasant has befallen you in your aflair over yonder, 
that makes you feel like being off in this sly and hasty manner, 
has there ? ” 

“No, Risdon, not quite so bad as that yet,” replied Woodburn, 
taking all in good part. 

“ How much better, then ? Come, Harry, I have taken stones 
enough out of your path, and thrown them into that of yout rival 
there, to earn a candid answer to such a question.” 


OK THF '{oP,y’s lUUCxIITER. 


29 


“True, sir; but you ask more than I am permitted to know 
myself. I can neither get accepted nor rejected. She, however, 
has given me fresh reason to admire her. She is no common 
girl, friend Risdon.” 

“ There is not a finer or fairer in all the Green Mountains ; but 
what is that fresh reason you name ? ” 

“ The discovery that at heart she is warmly with us in the good 
cause.” 

“ That is, you hope, and therefore believe so, eh ? ” 

“ I have a much better reason than that, sir, for my assertiop. 
Siie has, within this hour, told me so herself.” 

“Ah ! Well, then, it is indeed so ; for Sabrey Haviland never 
uttered aught but perfect truth and sincerity in all her life. Why, 
God bless her for her spunk and independence, living and visiting, 
ns she mostly has, from a child, in that circle of high-toned and bitter 
lories. And it argues well for your suit, too, Woodburn, which 
till now I have considered rather an unpromising one; for it tells 
me that she will struggle hard to get free from the fetters which 
Peters and her father have fastened on her, and by which, counting 
on her high sense of the sacredness of all promises and contracts, 
they suppose have secured her beyond the least fear of escape.” 

“ Do you allude to any thing other than the mere consent 
which she formerly gave to Peters’s proposals of marriage, and 
which, I had supposed, constituted the only engagement existing 
between them ? ” 

“ Yes, a far stronger case, which I have learned by way of my 
wife, since I last conversed with you on the subject.” 

“Ah ! What is it ? ” eagerly demanded the lover. 


“ Why, as I gathered it, the case was this,” answered the other. 
“ The old man, as well as Peters, you know, must always do things, 
if possible, after the English custom ; and both thinking more of 
property than women, they got up a regularly-written marriage 
contract, or settlement, by which one bound himself to give the 
other his daughter, with such and such a dowry, and the other to 
marry the daughter, and settle such and such sums on her and 
her heirs; all to be void in case the marriage fell through by 
fault of the girl. But to provide against this, they made another 
part to the instrument for her to sign, in which they made her 
solemnly promise and covenant to marry Peters, and none else; 
otherwise she was to forfeit her birthright in her father’s estate. 
This they somehow or other at last induced her to sign and seal; 
thus binding herself hand and foot forever, with but one single 
advantage, which, it seems, she had the wit to get added to the 
3 * 




so 


THE RANGERS, 


contract before she would sign it; and that was, that the time of 
fulfilling the contract, or day of the marriage, was to be left 
to her.” 

“ What a detestable conspiracy for a father to enter into against 
the rightful liberty and happinesA of a daughter ! ” exclaimed 
Wood burn, after a pause, during which surprise and indignation 
kept him silent. “ That, then, explains the hints she has several 
times thrown out to me respecting some peculiar trials and diffi¬ 
culties to which she was subjected. But was she of age when she 
signed that paper ? ” 

“ No ; but she probably, in her great scrupulousness, would long 
hesitate to break the engagement on account of that, or the fraud¬ 
ulent means they doubtless used to draw her into the shameful 
affair. Nevertheless, I would persevere. Her right to stave off the 
fellow, with her known wish to get rid of him, may yet procure 
her an honorable release ; or she may be brought to take a dif¬ 
ferent view about the binding nature of a promise obtained under 
such circumstances ; or, as a last resort, that paper may be got 
out of his possession by some scheme or other. So I think you 
will worst him in the long run, in spite of his present advantages 
of the father’s help, his own wealth, and-” 

“And his recent promotion,” interrupted Woodburn, “ which is 
to be the stepping-stone to the dukedom of Vermont, the reward 
for betraying his country, and the glittering bait, which, in antici¬ 
pation, is already held out to this besieged, but bravely resisting, 
girl ! ” 

“ What do you mean, Woodburn ? ” bluntly said the other, in 
surprise. 

“ I mean,” replied the former, “ that Peters has lately received 
a colonel’s commission in the British service, and is even now 
secretly but actively engaged, I suspect, in trying to seduce the 
people with British gold, and raise troops among us to cooperate 
with Burgoyne.” 

“ You astonish' me. Why, the hypocritical rascal has been 
giving out word about here, that, as he had friends and interests 
on both sides, he had concluded to remain neutral! Are you sure 
you have been correctly informed ? ” 

“ Quite sure. But while you may conjecture the source of my 
information, remember that it is to work no injury to the family 
of my informer.” 

“Ay, I understand, now — ’tis true, then ; and you are correct, 
too, in your suspicions about his present movements. That will 
account for the existence of the hard dollars that have so strange- 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


3 


.y made their appearance about here within a few days. But 
will he be suffered to prosecute his plans here among us What 
better is he than a spy.? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ He must be nabbed, then ; and we will let him find his duke’s 
coronet in a crow’s nest, on the limb of some old hemlock, to 
which we will soon have him dangling in the air, unless our author¬ 
ities wish to give him a more respectable gallows. What say you 
to that, Harry ? ” 

“ That you are not the first to think of it — that is, so far as to 
have him captured. He rode away from Haviland’s in this direc¬ 
tion, and at a moderate pace, just as I, unperceived by him, 
reached there, about an hour ago, on his way, doubtless, to one 
of the tory haunts in Manchester. My mare has a fleet foot, 
Risdon; so you now understand why I was in a hurry to be off, 
don’t you ? ” 

“I do; but Heavens! Woodburn, you are not going to give 
chase alone ? ” 

“ Yes; no horse but mine probably could overtake him before 
he reaches his associates ; besides, since it was hinted to me that 
he would seek my life, I am willing to give him a chance to take 
it, where neither he nor I shall have help or witness.” 

“Are you armed ? ” 

“ With dirk and pistols, as he only is.” 

“A rather hazardous push, Harry. But go, and God prosper 
you to take him, and with him that mischievous document. And 
one thing more : if you live to reach Manchester, tell that Council 
of Safety, that if they don’t do something soon, we, the peo¬ 
ple, will set up for ourselves in war-making. I, for one, don’t 
believe I can keep my hands off my rifle three days longer.” 

“Ay, ay,” said Woodburn, springing into his saddle. “ And 
now, Lightfoot, here is a loose rein for you. Go ! ” he added, 
striking with his heels the body, and with his hands the mane of 
the impatient animal, that, at these well-understood signs, gave 
an irregular plunge or two ahead, and then shot off like an arrow 
up the road. 


32 


THE RANGERS, 


CHAPTER III. 


“ Wliat heroes from the woodland sprung, 
When, through the fresh-awakened land, 
The thrilling crj' of freedom rung. 

And to the work of warfare strung 
The yeoman’s iron hand I ” 


Leaving Woodburn to the hot and eager pursuit that patriotism 
and private animosity had prompted him to undertake, we will 
now precede him a few miles on the road, for the purpose of in¬ 
troducing and accompanying another old acquaintance, who was 
also destined to become an actor in the wild and stirring ad¬ 
ventures of the night. 

Near the southern confines of Manchester, about nine o’clock, 
the same evening, a youth of the probable age of twenty, of a 
sandy complexion, and of a rather slight, but evidently tough, 
wiry frame, with a short rifle on his shoulder, and powder-horn 
and ball-pouch slung at his back, was making his solitaiy way 
on foot along the main road towards the town just, mentioned. 
As he now reached the Batenkill, where the stream, here first 
beginning to find a more peaceful flow, after its headlong descent 
from the Green Mountains, intersected the road, he suddenly 
paused and began to muse, with the air of one who has been 
struck by some new thought tending to divert him from his 
settled purposes; and, slowly passing on to the bridge, which, 
after the rude construction of the times, had been thrown across 
the river at this place, he took a seat on one of the side-timbers, 
or binders, as they were usually termed, and, in accordance 
with an old and inveterate habit, generated probably by the 
peculiar circumstances of his early life, began to commune with 
himself aloud. 

“ I wonder what this new business is they want you should do, 
Bart ? Harry said it was a secret matter when he handed over 
the paper,” he continued, pulling out and abstractedly unrolling 
a small wad of white paper, “ a kinder private commission, or 
something, which he would explain about, after I had gone and 
got his letter to the girl, as he met me on my way back. But 
why don’t he meet me fore this time ? It’s pesky strange he 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


83 


should hang back in a woman affair so! Why, he would go — 
like enough has gone — but then how could he miss me ? O 
Lord, Bart, what a stupid pup ! He passed you when you was 
napping it in the bushes at that cool spring ! I’ll bet my old hat 
on’t! VV’^ell, we shan’t see much more of him to-night, likely, 
seeing it is love he’s doing, and such a moon as this holds the 
candle ; and we may as well be trying to find out this business 
without him. So let’s be digging out what the paper says. 
Harry and the rest of ’em don’t know I can read writing ; hut 
I can, when driv to it; though I think we won’t let ’em know 
that, Bart; for no knowing what cunning things we may find out 
if they don’t mistrust it. Now let’s look. Why, I can se'e as 
plain as day ! ” he added, holding up the WTiting to the bright 
moonlight, and beginning to spell out the well-knowm bold and 
distinct characters of the secretary of the council, as follows : — 

‘‘To Bartholomew Burt: — 

“You are hereby appointed by the Council of Safety to go 
through this and the neighboring towns, bordering on the British 
line of march ; to spy out the resorts of the tories ; to mark 
and identify all inimical persons; to gain all the information 
..hat can be obtained respecting the movements of the enemy at 
large ; and make report, from time to time, to this council or 
some field officer of our line. 

' “ Ira Allen, Secretary.''!! * 

“ Good ! grand ! ” exclaimed the excited soliloquist, starting 
up and snapping his fingers in high glee. “ This will be a great 
thing for you, Bart. Yes, and then how gentlemanly and re- 
spectful-like it sounds to be called Bartholomew^, in that way! 
Bart, we’ll go it for them ; and have a touch of the trade this 
very night, if you please. But where shall w^e begin } Let’s see, 
now. Why, there’s old mother Rose’s haunt up the great road 
here, w’here, I do think, she must hatch out tories, same as a 
hen does chickens, they are so thick about there. Then there’s 


* Those w'ho may doubt the probability that such a commission would 
be issued by this body, would do well to consult that part of the journal 
of their proceedings, at this period, which has been preserved and pub¬ 
lished, in which will be found several similar ones, to serve as specimens 
of the many contained in the part that was lost, and to show how 
searching w'ere the operations of these vigilant guardians of the cause of 
liberty in Vermont, and how’ various the instruments they made use of 
to effect their objects. 




34 


THE BANGERS, 


Josh Rose courting that up and a coming sort of girl you saw 
at Howard’s tother day, when you called with Harry for a drink 
of water. Now, wouldn’t the fellow be apt to let out secrets 
there that we could get hold of, and put us on some good scent 
Ah ! that’s it; so now up the river for Howard’s, as a beginning, 
hit or miss, Bart.” 

While this singular genius is proceeding on his proposed des¬ 
tination, in the hope of accomplishing something to show himself 
worthy of the curious trust that had been so unexpectedly re¬ 
posed in him, we will occupy the breathing spot, thus afforded 
in our narrative, in apprising the reader, more definitely than 
we have yet done, of the main incidents that had marked the 
checkered fortunes of the two adventurers whom we have now 
again brought upon the scene of action, since we left tliem. 

When Woodburn and Bart left the state, under the circum¬ 
stances described in the closing chapters of our first volume, they 
proceeded directly to Cambridge, where the revolutionary army 
was then gathering for the siege of Boston, enlisted, for two 
years, into the continental service; and actively participated in 
all the most important movements of the army in the campaign 
that immediately succeeded. They were at Bunker Flill, on that 
memorable day of fire and blood, so glorious for the yeoman 
patriots of New England, and so fearful for her foes, — 

“ When first, as at Thermopylse, 

The battle shout of freemen rose ; 

Firm as their mountains, and as free, 

They nobly braved encountering foes.” 

And in the following autumn, they, in the same company, in 
which Woodburn, for bravery and good conduct, had been made 
a subaltern officer, marched with that division of the army which 
Arnold, with almost unequalled energy and fortitude, and amidst 
privation and suffering untold, led through the snow-clad wilder¬ 
ness of morass and mountain, to the distant Quebec. And 
there, in the onset, in which the high-souled Montgomery fell, 
they were together cut off from their company and made prison¬ 
ers ; when, after having, for nearly a year and^a half, endured the 
sufferings of a British prison-ship, they together escaped at Halifax, 
wandered, half naked and starving, through the seemingly in¬ 
terminable forests of Brunswick and Maine, to the American set¬ 
tlements, and finally reached home ; not there, however, long 
to repose, but soon to repair, with yet unbroken spirit, to the 
new scene of action, at which their countrymen were beginning 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


35 


to rally to meet the formidable invasion of the hitherto victorious 
Burgoyne. 

We will now resume the thread of our narrative. A walk 
of twenty or thirty minutes brought Bart to the log-tenement of 
Howard, who was a soldier in the continental service, now absent 
on duty, having left his house and business in charge of his wife, 
a woman no less noted, in her neighborhood, for energy in con¬ 
ducting her domestic affairs, than for the patriotic spirit with 
which she espoused the American cause. She and her daughter, 
a rustic beauty of eighteen, of keen perceptions, and even rare 
good senss, when her frolicsome disposition would allow her to 
exercise it, were now the only permanent inmates of this secluded 
cabin, which consisted of but two rooms, with a front entrance 
leading through an entry into either of them, and another door at 
the end of the house opening into the one usually occupied by 
the family as both sitting-room and kitchen. 

“ A light in both rooms, by the pipers! ” exclaimed Bart, as, 
after having cautiously approached, he paused to reconnoitre the 
house. “ The fellow is there at his traps, as sure as a gun ! 
Now what’s to be done, Bart ? ’Twon’t do to go in and show 
yourself, and have that torified scamp carry away word that you 
are mousing round the country nights, will it ? No, but I’ll tell 
you what, if it want for the name of sneaking and evesdropping, 
we would creep round back of the room where they be, and hark 
through the cracks; like enough get a peep, and so learn some¬ 
thing. But such things they expected of you, didn’t they, Bart ? 
Must be so, I think. Then suppose we throw the name and 
blame of it on the council, and try it, mister.? ” 

Taking a wide sweep round the house, Bart soon approached 
that part of it, on the back side, in which he rightly conjectured 
the young people were sitting ; and gliding up to the wall with 
steps as noiseless as those of a mousing fox, he discovered a 
crevice between the logs, from which the moss calking had fallen 
out so as to permit a small pencil of light to escape. Guided by 
this, he quickly gained, after applying his eye to the aperture, a 
distinct view of the couple within, and was enabled, at the same 
time, to catch every word of their variously modulated conversa¬ 
tion. They were seated at different sides of a light-stand, on 
which a candle was burning, she assiduously engaged, to all 
appearance, with her needle on some light sewing work, and he 
no less diligently, with his penknife, on a pine chip, which he 
was essaying to shape into a human profile, that of his mistress, 
as might be surmised from the sly glances with which he seemed 




36 


THE RANGEHS, 


occasionally to scan her features. Though now dressed in hia 
smartest fustian, he yet appeared awkward and ill at ease: 
while the timid and hesitating air, with which he seemed to 
regard his fair companion, indicated much conscious uncertainty 
respecting the place he might hold in her affections. She, on 
the contrary, seemed quite self-possessed, and wore the air of 
one not particularly solicitous about pleasing, which gave her as 
much advantage over him in her manner as she obviously pos¬ 
sessed in her person; for, besides a good form and a wholesome 
roseate bloom, she had one of those polyglot countenances which 
seem almost to supersede the necessity of speaking—a trait she 
very prettily exhibited while listening to the forced hints and in¬ 
nuendoes of her lover’s conversation, as she occasionally lifted her 
jiead, novv with a blush, now with a smile, and now with a frown, 
that caused his eyes to drop to the floor as quick as those of a 
rebuked schoolboy. Thus far, she had not opened her lips ; but 
now, as her suitor, turning in his chair, brought a hitherto shaded 
arm into view, and displayed upon his sleeve a common brass 
pin, (usually denominated in those days the Canada pin, as this 
article, then almost excluded from the toilet by the war, rarely 
found its way into this section except through the intercourse of 
the tories with that province,) her attention was suddenly excited ; 
and turning a sharp and searching look upon him, she said,— 

“ Where have you been lately. Josh ? ” 

“ Why? ” he replied, evidently surprised at the question and 
manner of the girl. 

“ That, sir,” she responded, significantly pointing to the pin. 
“ Such articles don’t get here but in one way, in these hard 
times, which compel us to put up wdth thorns for pins, and 
half tories for beaux,” she added, with a meaning and roguish 
look. 

“ Won’t you accept it. Vine ? ” he said, obviously disconcerted, 
but pretending not to understand her allusions. 

“ Not unless you tell me honestly how you got it, sir,” she 
replied, decisively. 

“ O, picked it up somewhere ; don’t remember now,” he eva¬ 
sively answ^ered. 

“ That, now, is a thumper, I know,” she rejoined, wdth a pretty 
toss of the head. “ But you don’t put me off so. The fact is, 
Josh, I suspect you have been among the tories to-day. Now be 
honest, and tell me, sir.” 

And for the next ten minutes the determined girl plied her 
reluctant and perplexed companion, by all the means which her 


OK THE tokv’e, 1E\UGHTER. 


37 


ingenuity could invent, to accomplish her object; teasing, coaxo 
ing, and threatening by turns, till, being unable to resist any 
longer, he replied,— 

“ Well, I will tell you ; and it can’t do any hurt either, for 
they will all be out of reach before morning.” 

“ Who will be out of reach ? ” eagerly demanded the other. 

“ The men that my brother Samuel enlisted. You knew he 
had got a captain’s commission in General Burgoyne’s army, I 
’spose.” ' 

“ We heard so ; but has Captain Samuel Rose been in town 
to-day ? ” 

“ Yes; for I may as well tell the whole, now I’ve begun. 
The captain has been all day at the house of brother Asa Rose, 
who lives out of the way, there, in the woods, over beyond the 
great road, you know. Well, he had agreed to meet all he had 
enlisted in this section there at sunset, and lead them off to the 
British camp, after people were abed. I was there just before 
dark, and saw them ; sixteen in all, besides the captain, all armed 
and equipped, and he in full uniform ; and he looks complete in 
it, too, I tell you.” 

“ But what was you among them there for ? ” 

“ O, I wanted to see Sam, and bid him good-by, you know, as 
he was going off, never to come back, for aught I knew ; that 
was all, upon honor, now.” 

“ Perhaps it was ; but one thing I wish you to understand. Josh 
Rose, and that is, if you take up for that side of the question, 
openly or secretly, your visits here-” 

“ O, I shan’t; no notion on’t, not the least in the world ; so 
don’t worry; though candidly. Vine, I don’t believe it’s much 
use for your folks to think of standing out any longer. Why, 
hundreds are joining the British every day, and what will be left, 
in a short time, can do nothing towards stopping such an army as 
Burgoyne’s.” 

“ What are left will be apt to try it, I think, sir.” 

The subject was now dropped ; and the girl, after a thoughtful 
pause, commenced on a theme more agreeable to her suitor, and, 
for a short time, was unusually sociable and gracious ; when she 
rose, and, carelessly remarking she must be excused a moment, 
left the room, and passed out through the front door, with noise 
enough in opening and closing it to leave the other in no doubt 
as to the direction of her exit. 

“ Well, Bart, what do you think of that.? ” whispered our lis¬ 
tener to himself, as now, on the departure of the girl from the 
vnr.. IT. 4 





ss 


THE RANGERS, 


room, he withdrew from his peeping-hole. “ Now, I pretend to 
say, I wouldn’t take a gold guinea for what we have got through 
that crack, nor two either, if our legs will carry us to the village 
and rally help quick enough to have that batch of lories nabbed 
before they are off. But let’s jest edge along against the mother’s 
room, and see if there is any discovery to be made there, before 
we start.” 

'Being equally fortunate in finding an opening into the room to 
which his attention was now directed, Bart cautiously peered in; 
when his eye soon fell on the solitary occupant, a fine, resolute¬ 
looking matron, quietly employed in knitting by the light of a 
torch stuck in one of the stone jambs of the broad fireplace. He, 
however, had scarcely time to note these circumstances before 
the door was softly opened, and the girl who had just left the 
other room entered on tiptoe, and whispered in her mother’s 
ear something that seemed to produce an instant effect on the 
hitherto sedate and listless countenance of the latter; for, start¬ 
ing to her feet, she stood gazing at the other with a flashing eye, 
and listening with the keenest interest, as some further particu¬ 
lars were added to the communication. 

“ Are you sure he was not fooling you ? ” said the mother. 

“ Very sure,” replied the daughter, significantly holding up the 
Canada pin. 

“ Well, Vine,” rejoined the former, with the air of one whose 
resolution is taken, “ you whip back to your post the same way 
you came ; and see that you keep him here till — say about mid¬ 
night,” she added, exchanging a meaning glance with the daugh¬ 
ter, whose hand was already on the latch to depart. 

No sooner had the intermingling tones of conversation in the 
other room apprised the woman that her daughter had there joined 
the unsuspecting suitor, than, hastily seizing bonnet and shawl, 
she noiselessly left the house and glided out into the road. After 
hesitating a moment here, respecting the course she should take, 
apparently, she made up to the log-fence enclosing an adjoining 
field, threw herself over it with the lightness of a boy, and, strik¬ 
ing off directly west, almost flew over the ground, till she reached 
the boundaries of their little opening; when she fearlessly 
plunged into the dark and pathless recesses of the "wood lying 
between her and the main road, to which she was evidently 
directing her course. 

“ There! just as I told you,” muttered Bart, who, inwardly 
vexed that the secret he had been hugging, as exclusively his 
own, should be shared by another, for fear measures might be 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


39 


taken to deprive him of the sole honor and profit he htd promised 
himself of communicating it, had been jealously noting what had 
occurred. “ Just as I told, Bart; the old woman has got your 
story, and there she goes, streaming off with it, like the house 
afire, for the great road, through woods, swamp, and all ! Well, 
it’s too late to try to stop her now, to save her the trouble of 
going, cause you’d frighten her, likely ; besides, she’d find out 
you’d been listening. But we’ll follow and keep track of her; 
may be she’ll get lost, and we can cut by her; or may be we 
can seem to come kinder accidentally on her, and contrive to 
get employed to do her errand, and so let her go back.” 

With this resolution, he immediately gave chase ; and by occa¬ 
sionally pausing, after entering the forest, to listen to the rustling 
^f her garments as the intrepid woman rushed through the tangled 
thickets on her way, or the cracking of dry twigs under her rapid 
tread, he was enabled to trace her course and keep within hearing 
distance, though not without exertions which drew forth many an 
exclamation of surprise at the speed with which, at such a time 
and place, she got over the ground. At length, they both reached 
the opening on the other side of the- forest opposite to a good- 
sized house on the main road. 

“ I vags,” exclaimed Bart, pausing and wiping the perspira¬ 
tion from his face with his sleeve, as he emerged from the wood, 
“if the perlite Frenchman, they tell of, who thought women had 
no legs, had followed this one through a mile-swamp at the rate 
she has gone, he would think a little different about the matter, 1 
guess. But never mind the tramp, Bart, but still keep your eye 
on her. There she goes smack into that house over yonder, 
which is — let’s see, now — Why, that is Major Ormsbee’s, who, I 
remember now, Harry told me, was her brother. Well, Bart, 
seeing you are fairly beat in this business, let’s work along over 
into the road against the house, and see what conies of it.” 

Scarcely had Bart gained his proposed situation in a nook of 
! the fence, before the major, followed by his son, came bustling 
out into the yard. ^ 

“ Jock ! ” he said, hastily turning to his son, “ you run to the 
barn, and saddle and bring out my horse, while I slip over to 
Captain Barney’s. But who have we here ? ” he added, espying 
j and approaching Bart. “ Who are you, friend ? ” 

“ Well, you may call me any thing but a tory and I won’t 
I complain, major.” 

“ That’s right. O, I believe I know you now — the comical 
chap I have seen with Woodburn, at Warner’s encampment. 




40 


THE RANGERS, 


N 


All right. Glad you happen here just at this time — we have 
business on hand.” 

“ I know it.” 

“ Know it! how ? You didn’t come with my sister ? ” 

“ No; after her; but got at the wrinkle about the gang down 
yonder before she did ; and am now on my way to the council, 
or the camp, with the news.” 

“ That I propose to do myself. I have a fleet horse, and it 
will be best I should go with the news myself. Besides, I wish to 
put you, with the few others I can raise hereabouts, on the track 
at once. You shall lose nothing by it; so turn in here, and go 
with me.” 

Content with this assurance of an officer known to be in the 
confidence of the council, and quite willing to make one in the 
expected affray, Bart cheerfully complied. And the two hurried 
on to the house the major had named ; where, fortunately, they 
found not only the owner, but another fearless patriot, by the 
name of Purdy, to both of whom the news just received was 
communicated ; when a hasty plan was devised among them for 
the capture of Captain Rose and his band of recruits, who, it was 
supposed, had not yet left the neighborhood, even if they had 
started from their place of rendezvous. 

The dwelling of Asa Rose, which had been selected by the 
tory captain as a secluded and safe rallying-point for his band, 
was situated in the wood, about three fourths of a mile west of 
the main road, and the residence, thereon, of the old widow Rose, 
who has been already mentioned, and who was the mother of a 
h.opeful brood of either open or secret loyalists, as their father, 
an extensive land-owner, who died about the beginning of the 
war, was before them. This old establishment of the Rose 
family, well known through the country as the harboring-place 
of the disaffected, was a little over a mile from the bridge over 
the river, at the south, and about half that distance from the 
residence of Major Ormsbee, at the north, where our handful 
of spirited friends were now rallying; while from the road, 
about half way between the two, diverged the path, which 
wound round south-westerly to Asa Rose’s, and from which the 
torics were expected to emerge on their way out of the neigh¬ 
borhood. 

“ Here comes Jock with my horse,” said the major, taking 
the reins from the boy, a sturdy youth of sixteen, who had not 
forgotten to bring his gun with him. “ Well, captain,” he con¬ 
tinued, leaping into his saddle, “ you understand the arrange- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


41 


merit; three of you to take the path to their rendezvous; one 
to go on to old mother Rose’s, and, if they are there, give the 
signal ; the long howl of a dog, remember; but if they are not 
there, to join the rest, and scout round, watch and delay them; 
while I, on my way, start out Pettibone and others, and send them 
directly through the woods to Asa Rose’s to get into the rear. 
All understand, do you ? ” 

“ Ay, ay, major.”. 

“ Well, then, God prosper you all, till I can get on with a 
platoon of Warner’s boys for the rescue.” 

So saying, the major dashed off at full speed towards the 
village ; while Barney and his men, with no less spirit, hurried 
on to their respective destinations, in the opposite direction. The 
place where the latter were to separate being soon reached, ap¬ 
pearance's examined, and no discoveries made, the captain, with 
Purdy and young Ormsbee, struck off from the road, and pro¬ 
ceeded cautiously along the bushy outskirts of the path before 
mentioned as leading to the supposed rendezvous, leaving to Bart 
the task of going on and reconnoitring the old establishment on 
the main road, at which, it was believed, the tories would be sure 
to'call, on their way out, to take a last treat from mother Rose’s 
ever-ready bottle, and perhaps some provisions from her cup¬ 
board, to invigorate them for their long night march to the British 
camp. A short walk now brought Bart in close vicinity to the 
house 'he was appointed to reconnoitre ; when, gliding silently 
along under cover of the fences, tall weeds, and other screening 
objects, he quickly made a circuit round the buildings, contriving, 
as he did so, to peer into the barns, sheds, and even into most of 
the rooms of the capacious old dwelling. He perceived, how¬ 
ever, no indications of the presence of any but females about the 
establishment; though, from the movements of these, and espe¬ 
cially those of the old woman, who was busily engaged in cutting 
up large quantities of bread and cheese, and in replenishing her 
junk bottles, he became satisfied that the company, of whom he 
was in search, were shortly expected. Having made these ob¬ 
servations, he retired from the house, crossed over the road into 
the opposite field, and was marking out a course for himself 
through the wood, which would intersect the path taken by his 
companions, and enable him to join them somewhere near the 
tory rendezvous, when his ear caught the clattering of horse- 
hoofs, approaching, at a furious pace, up the road from the south. 
And so rapid was the advance of the coming horseman, that 
Bart had scarcely time to gain the covert of a clump of shrubbery 
i* 


42 


THE R,^NGERS, 


standing by the fence, over against the house, before the formei! 
made his appearance, and, turning into the yard, galloped up to 
an open window, and addressed a hasty inquiry to the mistress 
of the house ; when, hardly waiting for the negative reply that 
appeared to be given, he suddenly wheeled about, and, regaining 
the road, pursued his course with renewed speed. 

“ Why ! ” exclaimed Bart in surprise, as he caught a view of 
the man’s features; “ as sure as a gun, it is Harry’s old troubler, 
that he thought he’d killed once, and felt so guilty about it, till 
he heard he didn’t. But what can the fellow be up to here, in 
such a hurry, just at this time } Don’t like the looks on’t, exactly. 
Bart, hasn’t this tall tory got wind of our movement, somehow, 
and come on to warn the gang, that, not finding here, he has 
gone, to meet ? Let’s be off and try to trace him. But hark ! 
Do you hear that Another coming from the same quarter! 
yes, and scratching gravel too, like Mars, I should think, by the 
way his horse’s feet strike the ground ! Here he comes ! What! 
It is, by mighty — it’s Harry and Lightfoot in full chase ! Go it, 
Lightfoot! Catch him, Harry ! Stuboy ! stuboy ! ” he added, in 
low, eager shouts of exultation, as the recognized horseman 
passed, like a flash, by his place of concealment. 

Springing forward to a small elevation in the field, which com¬ 
manded a broken view of the road to the path before described, 
and even a small portion of the latter, Bart tasked both eye and 
ear to the utmost, in trying to trace the dimly-discerned forms 
of the receding horsemen, now obviously but a short distance 
asunder, his object being to ascertain whether Peters would keep 
on in the main road, or, as he suspected his intention to be, strike 
into the path to Asa Rose’s, and try to reach the tories before 
he should be overtaken. For one moment, in which he lost sight 
of both pursuer and pursued, Bart stood in doubt; but the next, 
the changing direction of the still audible sounds, and the slight 
glimmerings of the sparks from the horse’s hoofs, now seen 
extending out in a line nearly at right angles to the course they 
had been pursuing, sufficiently apprised him that his suspicions 
were correct. Waiting, therefore, no longer than to ascertain 
this, he turned and plunged into the wood on his left; and taking 
the course he had already decided on for joining his companions, 
and being now incited to his utmost exertions of speed by his 
anxiety to reach the other road in time to warn Wood burn of the 
trap into which his' antagonist was doubtless intending to draw 
him at the tory rendezvous, or to be ready to lend any needed 
assistance in case a collision took place between them before 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


43 


reaching it, he made his way through the opposing obstacles of 
the thickets with a rapidity, probably, that a wild Indian could 
not have equalled, till he suddenly found himself in the path 
of which he was in quest, within a few rods of the small opening 
where stood the suspected log-tenement of Asa Rose. His first 
act now was to stoop down and examine the soft ground in the 
road, to ascertain whether Peters and his pursuer had passed the 
place. A moment’s inspection, however, confirming him in the 
negative, he rose and bent a listening ear in the direction of their 
expected appearance ; but no sounds reached him indicative of 
their approach. While standing here in doubt respecting the 
course next to be pursued, his attention was attracted by a com¬ 
motion at the house ; when, stepping forward towards the edge 
of the opening, he caught a glimpse of the whole body of the 
tories, with their leader at their head, just leaving the house and 
moving silently, and with a quick step, in the road towards him. 
Stealing softly away from his post of observation, he retreated 
rapidly along the path, some hundred yards into the wood ; when 
he fortunately encountered Barney and his two men, to whom 
he hastily communicated all the discoveries he had made since 
he left them. 

Fearing, from the non-appearance of Peters and his pursuer, 
of whom, strangely, nothing had yet been seen or heard, that 
the former had given the latter the slip in some by-path, which 
would enable him to reach the tories in the rear, or otherwise 
apprise them of the danger of proceeding, Barney instantly 
adopted the bold resolution of attempting the immediate capture 
of the whole band by stratagem, trusting to the firmness and 
ingenuity of himself and his men to keep, or get them forward, 
till the expected reenforcement should arrive. 

“We must multiply ourselves, and then act according to cir¬ 
cumstances,” he said, after apprising his men of his project, which 
they eagerly seconded. 

“ I will multiply into a platoon of ten, and be their orderly, 
if you will let me have my own way in the managing of ’em, 
captain,” said Bart, entering with great spirit into a plan in which 
his peculiarities so well fitted him for taking a leading part. 

“ Well, then,” replied the other, “take a station in the bushes 
five or six rods ahead ; the rest of us will take our coverts here, 
on different sides of the road. You must all act for yourselves, 
and on the hints of the moment; but I will take the lead, and 
give you such clews as the case may require.” 

Scarcely had this fearless little band settled themselves in. their 


44 


THE KANGEKS, 


respective stations, before the tories, marching in close Indian 
file, made their appearance, and came forward wholly unsuspi¬ 
cious of danger. They were permitted to advance unmolested 
till they were nearly all between the two points of ambush; 
when Captain Barney, stepping partly out from his concealment, 
presented his gun, and exclaimed, — 

“ Stand ! Surrender, or die ! ” 

“ Halt! ” cried the surprised, though not frightened, tory cap¬ 
tain, who was not only a fine-looking, but cool and capable, 
young officer — “ halt, till we see what all this means.” 

“ You will soon find out what it means, unless you surrender,” 
rejoined Barney, in a bold and confident tone. “ I give you one 
minute to decide. Attention there ! ” he continued, as if address¬ 
ing a numerous band of concealed forces — “ attention there, 
right, left, and front platoons ! Every man at his station and 
ready for the word ! ” 

Purdy and Ormsbee now made a simultaneous movement in 
the hushes, on the different sides of the road, by stepping about, 
hitting their guns against the trees, and thrusting out the muzzles 
at various openings towards the enemy; while, at the same time, 
the clicking sounds, as of the irregular cocking of a dozen mus¬ 
kets, with as many distinct movements of men, apparently, were 
heard in the direction of Bart’s concealment in front. 

“ Stand to your arms ! ” exclaimed Rose, to his men, who now 
began to show signs of fear and uneasiness. 

“ Don’t all take aim at the captain, you fools! ” shouted Bart, 
from his covert, to his men of strav/ ; “ don’t do that, I tell 
you ! There’s enough of ’em to furnish each of you a separate 
mark, nearly. There, that looks more like it! All cocked and 
ready ? ” 

“ Hold up there. Sergeant Burt! ” cried Barney ; “ don’t fire 
yet. Let us spare their lives if we can. Purdy,” he continued, 
turning to the man concealed on his right, “ you may give the 
signal, now, for the reserve platoons, in front and rear, to ad¬ 
vance, and close up on the road. The minute is nearly out, and 
I perceive we have got to make a demonstration before they will 
suriender.” 

The signal howl was then accordingly given, and, to the great 
joy of the assailants, immediately answered by Pettibone, who, 
having reached his destination in the rear of the house, and seen 
the tories decamping, was now, with another man, cautiously 
advancing towards the scene of action in the wood ; while nearly 
at tlie same moment, as it strangely happened, the sharp reports 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


45 


of three pistols, fired in quick succession, rang through the forest, 
a short distance on the road to the north. The noise of fire-arms, 
which, to the assailants, portended a rencounter between Peters and 
Woodburn, and filled them with anxiety for the fate of the latter, was 
taken by the tories as an answer of the signal from the pretended 
corps in front, and so completed their dismay that some of them 
threw down their arms, and began to cry out for quarter. 

“ The minute is out ; shall we fire. Captain Barney ? ” ex¬ 
claimed Bart, in a tone of impatience. 

“ Your answer. Captain Rose,” sternly demanded Barney — 
“ your answer this instant, or-” 

“ I yield,” said the reluctant tory leader. “ We surrender our¬ 
selves prisoners of war.” 

“ ’Tis well, sir,” responded the former. “ Lay down your 
arms, then, here in the road, advance twenty paces, and wait 
further orders.” 

While this order, which was thus given for the double purpose 
of enabling the victors to get between the tories and their guns, 
and to give time for Pettibone and his associate to come up, was 
being carried into effect, Bart, who had been burning with impa¬ 
tience for a chance to go to the assistance of his endangered friend, 
Woodburn, slunk noiselessly from his post, and made his way, 
with all possible speed, towards the spot from whence the noise 
of the firing appeared to proceed. 

But let us now return to note the issue between the belligerent 
horsemen. Woodburn having come in sight of his antagonist 
soon after crossing the river, and the latter then taking the alarm, 
the chase had proceeded, as'witnessed by Bart, till the parties 
struck into the by-road leading to the tory rendezvous ; when the 
former, concluding that Peters would not have turned in here 
without the expectation of finding friends and defenders near, 
now redoubled his exertions to overtake him, and bring on an 
encounter while it would have to be decided by individual prow¬ 
ess, and before his foe should reach assistance to render the pur¬ 
suit futile or dangerous. But notwithstanding his efforts, he soon 
lost sight of the other in the short turns of the winding and thickly- 
embowered path which they soon entered. Expecting, however, 
that the next turn in the road would reveal the object of his pur¬ 
suit, he dashed ahead some distance ; when, becoming satisfied 
that his antagonist had given him the slip by riding out of the 
road into some nook or side-path in the wood, he retraced his 
way nearly to the opening, vainly endeavoring to discover the 
concealment of the fugitive. Vexed and disappointed at being 





46 


THE RANGERS, 


thus balked, Woodburn was on the point of giving up the chase, 
when he caught a glimpse of th^ other, emerging from a thicket 
into the road, not a hundred yards distant, and setting off on a 
gallop in the direction first taken. Incited to fresh exertion, 
Woodburn now shot forward after his flying foe with a velocity 
which none but a horse trained to the rough paths of the wood 
could equal, and which, consequently, soon brought the parties in 
close vicinity of each other. Peters, now seeing no further 
chance to escape, suddenly pulled out a pistol, and, turning in 
his saddle, discharged it at Woodburn, who, wholly unharmed by 
the badly-aimed instrument, instantly returned the fire. The 
bullet of the latter, grazing the person of the former, entered the 
head of his startled and rearing horse, just back of the ears, and, 
after two or three fearful plunges onward, brought him to the 
ground. Leaping from his falling horse, the desperate loyalist 
gained his feet and discharged another pistol atW'oodburn; when, 
perceiving his opponent still unhurt, and about to make a rush 
upon him, he leaped over the body of his dying horse, still 
floundering in the edge of the bushes, and, in the noise thus oc¬ 
casioned, and in the screening smoke of his own fire, made good 
his escape into the forest. 

“ Come back, miscreant! coward ! ” shouted Woodburn, dis¬ 
mounting, and leaping forward to the place where the other had 
disappeared — “ come back, and decide your fate or mine.” 

But the new-made toiy colonel, who was more a coward from 
conscience than nature, in the present instance, perhaps, did not 
see fit to accept the challenge for a further personal combat. And 
Woodburn, judging that any attempt to pursue him in the woods 
would be useless, reluctantly gave up the chase, and turned to 
go back to his horse ; when Bart, running up and peering an 
instant at the dying horse and then at his friend, rushed by the 
latter, and, throwing himself on the neck of his loved pony, fell 
to hugging and fondling her in an ecstasy of delight. 

“ O Lightfoot! Lightfoot! ” he exclaimed ; “ lucky divil that 
you are, not now to be sprawling and kicking, like your tory 
brother there in the bushes ! Yes, that you are, Lightfoot; and 
you shall have an oat-supper to-night that would make a horse 
laugh, for catching up with the rapscallion.” 

“ Bart! ” said Woodburn, in surprise ; “ how did you get 
wind of this ? But no matter. You have come too late.” 

“Know it — couldn’t help it, though — had other fish to fry 
first, that musn’t cool. Captain Rose and sixteen other tory pris¬ 
oners are on the road here, just below.’ 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


47 


“ Pnsoners ! how ? By whom taken ? ” 

“ O, Captain Barney, and Bart, and I, and Mi. Stratagem, and 
one or two others.” 

“ What, only three or four of you to seventeen ? ” 

“ No; I was a flanking party of ten in the bushes, and sar- 
geant of ’em — cocked all their guns for ’em, by cocking and 
uncocking my own — talked for ’em all, out of seven corners 
of my mouth at once, and kept ’em from firing till the word, you 
know. We heard your firing, and called you the front-guard ; 
and — and we took ’em — every dog of ’em.” 

“ Bravoes ! and no fool of an exploit on your part neither, 
Bart, if all this is so. But are the prisoners secured ? Had we 
not better hasten to join the escort ? ” 

“ No, two or three more came up just as I left, and there’s 
enough now to manage in that quarter; but the advance-guard 
« here must be kept up till we get ’em out to the great road, lest 
the sneaks slink away into the woods as they pass along the road, 
and slip through our fingers as your smart trooper did just now. 
Let’s see — about eight strong we will have this guard, I guess. 
I will be rank and file, and you shall be the officer. Come, 
mount! They’ll be poking their heads along in sight in a mo¬ 
ment. Ay, there they come ! Advance-guard ! ” he now added, 
in a loud, commanding tone, as the slow tread of the prisoners, 
advancing along the devious and closely-embowered path, became 
audible — “advance-guard! Attention the whole ! Prepare to 
march ! — march ! ” 

And accordingly he then, as Woodburn mounted and rode 
slowly on behind, commenced the enactment of his assumed part, 
always keeping within hearing, but never within distinct view, of 
the prisoners; now jabbering in as many voices as the most ex¬ 
pert ventriloquist, and now sternly commanding, “ Silence in the 
ranks — now getting up a seeming scuffle among his men, and 
now driving them, with thwacks and curses, to their places; and 
now again softening his tones and cracking jokes with his men,— 
Smith, Johnson, &c., — who, in as many different tones, were heard 
to return various sharp and comical retorts, which raised shouts 
of laughter and made the forest ring with the sham merriment. 
And thus he proceeded, to the secret amusement of the victors, 
all of whom perfectly understood the artifice, till they emerged 
from the woods into the open grounds on the main road, when 
they were met by Major Ormsbee with a small detachment of 
regular soldiers. The tories were then, for the first time, per¬ 
mitted to know the smallness of the force that had captured them; 


48 


THE RANGERS, 


when, amidst showers of gibes and shouts of laughter, at their eX’ 
pense, from the Green Mountain Boys, the chapfallen creatures 
were wheeled into the main road, and hurried on at a lively pace 
to the village of Manchester, to be kept as prisoners of war, ov 
tried as spies, as the higher authorities there should see fit to 
decide.* 

“ Captain Woodburn! ” exclaimed the clear, animated voice 
of one coming out of the door of the honored tavern before 
described, in the village of Manchester, as the person thus 
addressed, who had just arrived with those escorting the prisoners, 
was describing the capture to a crowd gathered round him in the 
yard — “ Captain Woodburn, your most obedient! I am glad my 
patience in waiting for your arrival is rewarded by the good news 
which Powell, our landlord here, has just told us you bring. * But 
come, sir, a word in your ear, if you please.” 

Woodburn turned and confronted the bright and smiling coun¬ 
tenance of Ira Allen, who was beckoning him from the crowd. 

“Certainly, Mr. Allen; but why honor me with that appella¬ 
tion ? ” responded the former, stepping aside with the ardent young 
secretary. 

“ Because I have the warrant for so doing in uny pocket — a 
captain’s commission for you, my dear sir, if you will believe me.” 

“Indeed!” 

“ Yes, we have done something in the council at last worth 
talking about — voted to raise a regiment of Rangers forthwith, 
and appointed all the commissioned officers, Samuel Herrick head¬ 
ing the list as colonel.” 


* This band of tories were, the next day after their capture, marched to 
Arlington, Avhere the question was raised, and sharply discussed, whether 
they should be considered as prisoners of war, or tried as spies, the latter 
being insisted on by Mathew Lyon, and some others of the more bold and 
ardent friends of the American cause, who declared that Captain Rose, at 
least, should be tried and hung as a spy. A jury, however, — Eli Pettibone, 
Esq., presiding as civil magistrate, — was allowed the prisoner; when, more 
probably, from sympathy for the manly but misguided young officer, whom 
they had known as a pleasant neighbor, than from want of proof, he was 
acquitted as a'spy, and, with the rest of his band, removed to Northampton 
jail as prisoner of war. Considerable favor, also, seems to have been ex¬ 
tended to the other brothers, some of whom married into whig families, 
through whose influence, it is said, they retained their estates, none of the 
extensive Rose property being confiscated, except that of Captain Samuel 
Rose, which is now the residence of the lion. J. S. Pettibone, from whom 
these particulars have been obtained, his father being one of the captors, 
aad his uncle the magistrate, above named. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


49 


“ A gallant fellow, who will honor the post. But how about 
the means of paying and supporting such a force ? You lately 
held taxing the people, without their consent, too bold a measure, 
I thought.” 

“ We did, but have nevertheless adopted a bolder one.” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ Decreed the confiscation of the estates of the tories, appointed 
the necessary officers to execute the decree, and despatched mes¬ 
sengers to them with commissions, instructions, and with orders 
to put the machine immediately into motion. By to-morrow night 
many of those on our black list will-” 

“ Your black list ? ” 

“ Yes, already mostly made out for operations. But what is 
there'to startle you in that ? ” 

“ Nothing; and yet I cannot forbear asking if that list includes 
one in whose family you may guess I feel some interest.” 

“ I fear so, and regret that the proofs are so strong as to 
require it.” 

“ Could not action in that case be deferred > An angel is plead¬ 
ing with him to remain neutral.” 

“ If she were a whig angel, Woodburn, I know not-” 

“ She is, she is— firmly, devotedly.” 

‘‘ Indeed ! Well, for your sake, Woodburn, I am glad of it. And 
as the political hue of petticoats has already been permitted to 
have .an influence, in some instances of the kind, in making up the 
list, it may have in this case. But the old man’s enmity to our 
cause is so notorious, that I fear his estate must go, though the 
daughter, if she prove true, will not be forgotten on the question 
of a future restoration of her share of the property. But I am 
neglecting my chief business with you. We have fixed your 
present destination for the other side of the mountain, where 
among your old acquaintances, it was thought, you could raise a 
company most expeditiously.” 

“ But where is the money to come from to pay my recruits ? 
Even jn case these estates are sold, who among us, these times, 
has money to purchase them ” 

“ The answer to that question involves a secret which is known 
to but a few of us, and which must not be further revealed. Suf¬ 
fice it that there is yet among us abundance of money, besides 
the British gold that is beginning to be scattered along our border, 
to meet our present requirements. You will be supplied in sea 
son.” 

“ I am content, and ready to depart.” 

VOL. II ^ 5 




50 


THE RANGERS, 


“ How soon can you start ? ” 

“ This hour, if necessary.” 

“ Retire, then, and obtain a few hours’ sleep ; but be off before 
day. Here are your commission and instructions, by which you 
will see that your subalterns are to be of your own appointing. 
Good-night, and God speed you on your way. Remember that 
we expect much of you, and that I stand voucher for your good 
conduct. And remember, also, my dear fellow,” added the 
speaker, in a low, confidential tone, “ that the interests of your 
fair friend could not be in better keeping.” 

“ You have laid me under deep obligations to you, Mr. Allen, 
for all this,” began Woodburn, with grateful emotion. 

“ Yes, to do well; but not a word of thanks will I hear. So 
off with you to your rest. Begone, sir ! ” said Allen, pushing the 
other away, with that winning smile and kindly playful manner, 
with which he ever so wonderfully contrived to gain the hearts 
and control the actions of all whom he wished to make friends. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter 


51 


CHAPTER IV. 


It 13 not much the world can give 
With all its subtle art; 

And gold and rank are not the things 
To satisfy the heart.” 


The da!y following the occurrences noted in the preceding 
chapter was an eventful one to the Haviland family, developing 
circumstances calculated to hasten the crisis to which the con¬ 
flicting feelings and conduct of the father and daughter had been 
for some time silently tending, and to give a new turn to their 
respective destinies. 

It was late in the afternoon. No event had thus far during 
the day occurred to mar the usual tranquillity of the family ; and 
Haviland, yet uninformed of the untoward affair which befell his 
party the last evening at Manchester, and little dreaming of the 
bold and decisive measures adopted by the.Council of Safety, 
was seated at a table in his usual sitting-room, examining, with a 
satisfied and triumphant air, a map of New York, on which he 
was tracing out the intended route of the British army in its 
hitherto victorious way from the St. Lawrence to Albany. At 
length he began to muse aloud, partly to himself, apparently, 
and partly to his daughter, who, with a pensive brow, was seated 
at an open window in the same room, quietly engaged with her 
needle-work. 

“ As soon as General Burgoyne can clear the road of the trees 
and other obstructions, with which the rebels, in their impotent 
spite, have filled it, so that he can move on to the Hudson, how 
that grand army will sweep away the feeble and undisciplined 
bands that may venture to oppose its victorious march! And 
when a junction of the British armies is formed at Albany, what 
can this infatuated people think of doing then ? With the north 
completely cut oft* from the south, as wilfthen be the case, what 
can these two sections, which together can hardly raise a respec¬ 
table force, do, when thus divided and prevented from all concert 
and cooperation ? Ay, what,will they do then ? Come, Sabrey,” 
he added, turning with an exulting air to his daughter, “ perhaps 




62 


THE RANGERS, 


you, who appear to have so high an opinion of rebel prowess-— 
perhaps you can answer the question ? ” 

“ I may be better prepared to answer the question, perhaps, 
when 1 see the junction you anticipate really effected. Burgoyne 
has not reached Albany yet,” replied the other, with playful sig¬ 
nificance. 

“ Be sure not; but what is to prevent him ? What force can 
the rebels oppose that he will not scatter like chaff before the 
wind ? None ! I tell you, girl, their doom is sealed ! ” 

“ It might be, if they would consent to let you fight their battles 
for them, father. But the battle which they are preparing to 
give Burgoyne they will choose to fight themselves, I imagine. 
A few Bunker Hill lessons, on his way, might materially alter the 
general’s prospects.” 

“ Bunker Hill ? Pooh ! Why, we routed them even there, 
behind their breastworks. Besides, we never had so fine an 
army as this in the field before. I only wish I was as sure of 
some good commission in Burgoyne’s army, as I am that he wib 
march triumphantly through to Albany, and thus bring this un 
natural war to a close.” 

“ Would you think of going into that army, father, shoulc 
you receive such an appointment” asked the daughter, in a tone 
of surprise and expostulation. 

“ Why, I should be proud to be there, Sabrey, in an army 
that contains so much of the first talents and chivalry of Eng¬ 
land.” 

At this stage of the conversation, a man rode up to the door, 
and, dismounting and entering the house, handed to Mr. Haviland, 
after inquiring his name, a gorgeously-sealed packet. 

Haviland, after examining the seal a moment, bowed low to 
the stranger, and inquiringly observed,— 

“ From General Burgoyne, I believe ? ” 

The messenger, nodding in the affirmative, and saying he was 
directed to wait for'an answer, the former broke open the 
missive, and found in it, by singular coincidence, an answer to 
the prayer he had a few moments before indirectly uttered ; a 
commission, or appointment in the commissary department of 
the British army. After perusing the paper a second time, he 
turned, and, with a consequential air, handed it to his daughter, 
whose countenance instantly fell as she glanced over the suspected 
contents. 

“ You cannot seriously think of accepting this appointment^ 
father,” she said, with a look of concern ; “ you cannot think of 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


53 


leaving your quie: and comfortable home, and engaging, at your 
age, in the fatigues and dangers of the camp ? ” 

‘‘ Why not, Sabrey ? ” replied the other, reprovingly. “ From 
my knowledge of the country, I can be of great use in procuring 
the supplies which the army will need, as the general doubtless 
foresaw ; and I consider it my duty to the king to lend my feeble 
aid w’hen called. The post is not, it is true, a very high one ; 
but it is honorable and lucrative, and I shall accept it.” 

If this is Miss Sabrey Haviland, I have a letter for her also,” 
here interposed the messenger, rising and presenting the letter in 
question. 

Sabrey broke open the proffered letter, which proved to be 
from her friend Miss McRea, and ran thus: — 

“ You remember your promise, Sabrey, to visit me the first 
opportunity. That opportunity now occurs. Captain Jones and 
other friends have presented your father’s name at head-quarters 
for promotion; and he has now, I am informed, received an 
appointment. If he accepts, as I am sure he will, I hope you will 
accompany him, and remain with me. I have just received one 
of those letters so precious to me : he says the army will prob¬ 
ably move on to Fort Edward next week, the obstructions in 
the road being now mostly removed ; so that, by the time you 
arrive, I shall probably be enabled to introduce you to the beau¬ 
tiful and accomplished ladies of whom he has so much to say, —> 
such as the Countess of Reidesel, Lady Harriet Ackland, and 
others, w^ho accompany their husbands in the campaign. But 
you wu'll perhaps say that he is interested in praising these ladies 
for the love and heroism which prompt them to brave such 
fatigues and dangers for the sake of their lords, since he is 
warmly urging me to consent to an immediate union, that I may 
follow their example. He says, in his last letter, — and I think 
truly, —that I cannot long remain where I am, in a section vyhich, 
he evidently anticipates, will soon become a frightful scene of 
strife and bloodshed ; and that I must therefore go away with 
my friends, and leave him, perhaps forever, or put myself under 
his protection in the army. And he seems hurt that 1 hesitate in 
a choice of the alternatives. On the other hand, my connections 
and friends here think it would be little short of madness in me 
to yield to my lover’s proposal. The people about here are 
greatly alarmed at the expected approach of the British army, 
which is known to be accompanied by a large body of Indians. 
Many are already removing and nearly all preparing to go. 


54 


THE RANGERS, 


The crisis hastens, and yet I am undecided. Prudence points 
one way, love the other. What shall I do O Sabrey, what 
shall I do ?* Should you come on with your father, 1 think I 
should feel a confidence in going with you to the British encamp¬ 
ment. Come then, my friend, come quickly; for I feel as if I 
could not go without friends, and especially a female friend, to 
accompany me ; while, at the same time, I feel as if some irre¬ 
sistible destiny would compel me to the attempt. And yet why 
should I hesitate to take any step which he advises ? Why refuse 
to share with him any dangers which he may encounter } And 
why should my anticipations of the future, which have ever, till 
recently, during my happy intimacy with Mr. Jones, been so 
bright and blissful, be clouded now? I know not; I know not 
why it should be so ; but lately my bosom has become disturbed by 
strange misgivings, and my mind perplexed by dark and unde¬ 
fined apprehensions. I must not, however, indulge them; and 
your presence, I know, would entirely dissipate them. I repeat, 
therefore, come, and that quickly. Adieu. 

“ Yours, truly, Jane McRea.” 

The messenger in waiting, having been invited into another 
room to partake of some refreshment, and the father and daughter 
being thus left again by themselves, the latter now handed the 
other for his perusal the affectionate but too truly boding letter of 
her fated friend. 

“ And what answer do you intend to return to this kind and 
pressing invitation of your friend, Sabrey ? ” asked Haviland, 
after attentively reading the epistle. 

“ That 1 do not think it advisable to accept it, at this time, 
father,” answered the girl. 

“ Why not advisable ? ” asked the other, in a censorious 
tone. “ I see nothing to object to in the step, going, as you will, 
under the protection of a father; while it will introduce you to a 
circle which few American girls can ever reach.” 

“ I feel quite willing to forego the honor of such an introduc¬ 
tion,” coolly returned the daughter. “ And were it otherwise, 
the very letter that brings me the invitations unfolds enough to 
deter me from the undertaking.” 

“ You wholly mistake your friend’s meaning,” responded the 
former. “ Her apprehensions are merely the natural effect of 
maiden timidity. I think, as her lover seems to do, that the 
safest place for her is with the British army. So I think it will^ 
be for you ; for I know not what punishment will be inflicted on 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


55 


these settlements for their rebellious and treasonable conduct. 
A.nd it is my wish to separate myself and family from them, be¬ 
fore the day of reckoning arrives. I shall, therefore, expect you 
to attend me.” 

As the daughter was about to reply a domestic came in and 
announced the arrival of Colonel Peters ; and the latter, the next 
moment, with a dark and sullen brow, unceremoniously entered 
the apartment. He did not, however, deign immediately to un¬ 
fold the cause of his evident ill-humor, but contented himself 
with listening to the news, which the elated Haviland was prompt 
to impart in relation to his own promotion, the invitation received 
by his daughter to accompany him to the army or its vicinity, 
and his thus far rejected advice to her to accede to the proposal. 
The cold countenance of Peters brightened with selfish delight 
at the recital; for in the old gentleman’s appointment, his de¬ 
termination to accept it, and his intention of taking his daughter 
with him, if she could be so persuaded, the former saw the tri¬ 
umph of his machinations to involve the family inextricably in 
the royal cause. But that triumph would not be complete, unless 
the daughter, whose predilections for Woodburn and the Ameri¬ 
can cause were more than suspected, could be kept within the 
scope of loyal influence. He therefore secretly resolved that, 
if ber father left the settlement to join the army, she should not 
be left behind, but should be induced or compelled to accompany 
him.' He consequently was not slow to add his advice and en 
treaties to those of the father. This he did for a while with 
some show of respect and kindness ; but finding her still im¬ 
movable, he at length became irritated, and assumed a tone of 
dictation so inconsistent with the natural delicacy of a lover, that 
she declined any further conversation with him on the subject. 

“ Where will you go, perverse and blinded girl ? ” now inter¬ 
posed the father, reproachfully. “ You would not stay here alone 
and unprotected, would you ? ” 

“ I should not hesitate to do so on account of any molestation 
which American troops would offer me,” replied Sabrey, with a 
‘gnificant emphasis on the word American. “ And should others 
approach, I would go to my connections on the other side of the 
mountains.” • ' 

“ Miss Haviland may have her private reasons for wishing to 
remain in this section of the country,” said Peters, with an ill- 
suppressed sneer, turning to the father. 

“Will you please explain your meaning, sir ? ” demanded the 
girl with spirit 




56 


THE RANGERS, 


“ 1 mean,” replied Peters, “ that she who would hold clandes 
tine meetings with one whom her father has seen fit to eject from 
his house, might see the advantage of remaining where her inter¬ 
views could be enjoyed without molestation.” 

“ Sabrey Haviland, is that true ? ” asked the old gentleman, 
with a gathering frown. 

“ She will hardly deny, I think,” said Peters, “ that the fellow 
was here soon after I left last night. At all events, he was seen 
to leave the premises in pursuit of me. By whom he was in¬ 
formed of the direction I took, I know not; but I know he over¬ 
took me, beset me like a ruffian, and shot my horse by a ball 
intended for the rider.” 

“ Is all that true, I repeat ? ” again fiercely demanded Haviland 
of his daughter, in a burst of rage. 

But without deigning one word of reply either to the insulting in¬ 
sinuations of Peters, or the angry and ill-timed demand of her 
father, Sabrey, with cheeks glowing with offended delicacy and just 
indignation, rose from her seat, and was about to leave the apart¬ 
ment, when her step was arrested by the altered voice of her 
father, who, quickly becoming sensible of the harshness of his 
conduct from its visible effects, now spoke to her in a softened 
and more expostulatory tone. 

“ Surely, Sabrey, you are not going to deny my right, as a 
parent, to question you, or at least ask you for an explanation 
respecting charges which have the appearance of involving your 
character ? ” 

“ I might not,” said she, coolly, but respectfully ; “ and in¬ 
deed, I should not, at another time, have refused to answer your 
question so far as I could, however harshly it was put to me ; 
but I must still decline to do so in t/iis presence ! ” she added, 
glancing towards the abashed Peters, with an air of scorn to 
which her usually serene and benignant countenance never be¬ 
fore, perhaps, gave expression. 

“ Perhaps, Miss Haviland,” said Peters, stung by the remark 
and manner of the other, and now rallying for the revenge to which 
such minds are prone to resort — “ perhaps Miss Haviland, on 
a little more reflection, may be willing to acknowledge that I, 
also, am not wholly without a right to ask for an explanation in 
an affair which she seems to admit requires one.” 

“ I am not aware, sir,” promptly responded the maiden, so 
much aroused by the cool arrogance of the other, as to forget her 
determination to hold no more conversation with him—“I am 
not aware, sir, of having admitted any necessity of an explanation. 


OR THK TORV’S DAUGHTER. 


57 


And had I done so, I should be very far from acknowledging your 
right to require it of me.” 

“ It is possible,” rejoined the former in the same strain — “ it is 
possible Miss Flaviland may be willing to qualify her last remark 
a little, when she is reminded of the existence of a certain mar¬ 
riage contract, to which she voluntarily became a party.” 

“ I need no prompting to make me mindful of that evidence of 
my youthful indiscretion, sir,” responded Miss Haviland; “ nor 
should I be likely to forget the particular provisions of an instru¬ 
ment, the thought of which has cost me, as my entreaties to be 
released from it should have apprised you, so many painful 
regrets. But, while mindful of all this, I have yet to be informed 
of the provision which, till the contract is consummated, gives 
you any control over my actions, or right to require me to account 
for or explain them.” 

“ If the instrument, which I have somewhere about me, I be¬ 
lieve,” replied the other, with his usual cold indifference, as he 
took the document from his pocket, and began, with a business¬ 
like air, to glance over the contents — “ if the instrument does 
not express, or rather if it is not admitted to presuppose and 
give me, any of the rights I have named till it is consummated, 
then it is time that I should insist on its consummation, which, 
as few others would have done, I have so long forborne to 
urge.” 

“ r perfectly agree with Colonel Peters,” interposed Mr. Hav¬ 
iland, catching at the last suggestion in his growing alarm for 
the success of his favorite scheme, which the unexpected state 
of feeling here displayed taught him might be endangered, if not 
speedily consummated. “ 1 perfectly agree with him, that this 
business has already been sufficiently delayed ; and I think, as 
the family is now about to break up, that the.final ceremony had 
better be performed before we go, or, at the farthest, when we 
reach the army, where, as Sabrey would perhaps prefer, it 
might take place at the same time as that of her friend, who is 
similarly situated.” 

“ You forget,” said the maiden, now freshly aroused at this 
combined attempt to make her forego her last remaining privilege 
in the abhorrent negotiation — “you both forget that the very 
instrument, by which you claim to dispose of rny hand, expressly 
leaves to me, and to me only, the right and privilege of deciding 
upon the time for that ceremony, by which you would now, it 
seems, so summarily consummate your unmanly scheme. And, 
thank Heaven ! ” she continued, turning to the nonplused suitor, 


58 


THE RANGERS, 


with an air of decision and fearlessness which the excitement of 
insulted feeling could only have given her — “thank Heaven, I 
had the forethought to insist on a privilege now so precious to 
me; for let me assure you, sir, that distant will be the day when 
I shall fix on a time for consummating a contract, wrung from 
girlish inexperience, to gratify selfish ambition or mistaken views, 
in the first place, and now claimed to hold me like a sold article 
of merchandise, for the use and control of one whose feelings, 
principles, and whole character are every way uncongenial with 
my own.” 

^ “ What! — how ! ” exclaimed the irritated and evidently aston¬ 
ished Haviland, who, in his obtuseness, even now, could not per¬ 
ceive what objection his daughter could have to a match esteemed 
by him so advantageous. “ What can this mean ? Why, the 
girl must be demented ! You to decide on the time ! Why, 
reasonable time is all that was meant by that, if it is not so ex¬ 
pressed ! ” 

“ That is all; nothing more,” eagerly chimed in Peters. 

“ If a part of the instrument is to be construed differently from 
what is expressed, and as you choose, why not other parts, and as 
I choose ? ” calmly asked the unmoved girl. “ If so, then its 
power to bind me shall cease with this hour.” 

“ What folly ! ” again exclaimed the old gentleman, balked and 
chafing worse than before. “ Why, don’t the infatuated girl know 
that, to say nothing about losing prospects which no other young 
lady in the country would reject — that by marrying any other 
man, she will forfeit her birthright in my estate, and make her¬ 
self, as she will deserve to be, a beggar ? ” 

“ I have no thought of marrying any other man while in my 
present embarrassing position,” quickly retorted the former, wdth 
an offended air. “ But should I wish to do so, I should hardly be 
deterred from it by either of the considerations you have just 
named, I think. And, indeed, if the mercenary and ambitious 
motives, which you would have actuate me, were alone to be my 
guide in such a step, I could see but little temptation for the sacri¬ 
fice in the honors and wealth which are so much to depend on a 
triumph that, for all your boasts, I believe will never be accom¬ 
plished ; while the failure, if the same justice is meted out to you 
which you seem to be meditating for others, will leave you with 
a branded name, and no estate here to give or withhold.” 

“ Silence ! audacious girl,” exclaimed the baflled loyalist, un¬ 
able longer to endure the calm but scorching rebuke involved in 
the reply of his daugP I will listen to no more of your 


OR THE tort’s DAUGHTER. 


59 


railings. This comes of being allowed to mingle with an ignorant, 
rebellious populace. But that evil shall, at least, be remedied. 
You will attend me to the army, where, I trust, your eyes may 
soon be opened to your folly.” 

You may perhaps compel me to go, sir,” responded the still 
unawed maiden; “ but if you do so, let me warn you against all 
hope of thereby rendering my feelings less repugnant to the 
scheme we have been discussing, or of changing my views of the 
cause in which you are about to embark ; for I will now openly 
declare, what I have often before left you to infer, that I have 
no sympathies for those who come to oppress and enslave my 
country ; nor will I ever aid or sanction their ignoble purposes — 
not even to the withholding any intelligence I may gain of their 
movements, which may avert disaster or peril from our struggling 
people.” 

“ Hurrah for the tory’s daughter! ” now burst on the ears of 
the astonished group, from a band of armed men standing imme¬ 
diately beneath the open but thickly vine-clad windows without, 
whither, it seemed, they had approached unperceived, and thus 
become unintentional listeners to the last part of the foregoing 
dialogue, which they were still hesitating to break in upon, when 
their admiration of the heroic girl’s declarations led to the irre¬ 
pressible burst of applause just mentioned — “ Hurrah for the tory’s 
daughter ! She shall be remembered for that! ” 

The party within instantly rose to their feet at so strange and 
unexpected a salutation. Peters, aware, from the experience of 
the last night, that his capture was sought, was the first, as might 
be expected, to take the alarm. With a hasty step towards the 
window, and an equally hasty glance through the screening 
foliage at the new-comers, he hurriedly retreated through a 
door leading to the rear of the house. Haviland, scarcely less 
alarmed, though having no conception of the main object of the 
visit, advanced, with evident perturbation, to the front door, when 
he was met at the threshold by the secretary of the Council of' 
Safety, who, bowing politely, proceeded to apologize for the noisy 
outbreak of his attendants, which, contrary to his wishes, he said, 
had been made to announce his arrival. 

“ Attendants, sir ? ” exclaimed Haviland, casting a flurried 
glance at the file of soldiers in the yard —“ attendants — armed 
men led up here to my door ? Who are they ? What is their 
business, and yours, sir ? This affair needs explanation, sir.” 

“ Well, sir, if so, I am here to give it,” composedly replied 
Allen. “ But, as you appear somewhat agitated, let us walk in 
and talk over the matter calmly.” 


60 


THE RANGERS, 


Mechanically complying with the suggestion, Haviland turned 
and led the way into the room, where his daughter still stood, 
mutely awaiting the development; when the secretary, after 
bowing with marked respect to -Miss Haviland, with whom, it 
appeared, he was slightly acquainted, resumed,— 

“ The Council of Safety, sir, having determined on defending 
the state to the last extremity, in the present crisis, have per¬ 
ceived, with deep regret, that there are those in our midst who 
hesitate not either to take up arms against their countrymen, or, 
what is no better, secretly to aid the enemy, and harbor and con¬ 
ceal in their houses hostile emissaries, trying to seduce our peo¬ 
ple. And not perceiving the policy or justice of longer permitting 
their cause thus to be endangered, the council have decided on 
a measure for promptly remedying the evil — a measure which 
they had less hesitation in adopting, as they believed, from the 
repeated threats of the loyalists, they would only be anticipating 
their opponents by inflicting penalties, that, in case of the con¬ 
quest of this country, will be visited on themselves. They have 
passed a solemn decree, sir, to confiscate, for the public use, all 
the estates of both of the classes of loyalists I have named, among 
one of which, at least, they have abundant proof, I regret to say, 
to warrant them in classing Esquire Haviland. And they direct 
me to permit him to take one of the horses, lately his own, and 
depart, with the least possible delay, for the British camp, where, 
they think, he more properly belongs.” 

The arrogant loyalist, who had hitherto looked upon the Coun¬ 
cil of Safety with utter contempt for either their powers or their 
efficiency, was now perfectly thunderstruck at the announcement 
of so bold and unexpected a measure ; and, for some moments, 
his mouth seemed wholly sealed against any remonstrance to a 
step which, not for public good, but for his own aggrandizement, 
he was conscious of intending to recommend to the British govern¬ 
ment in relation to the estates of the leading rebels, and especially 
those of the treasonable body by whom, as had just been so truth¬ 
fully told him, his selfish designs had now been anticipated. 
Soon rallying, however, he wrathfully muttered,— 

“ They dare not do it; their audacity will not carry them to that 
length. But if they do,” he continued, with louder and more 
menacing tones — “ if they do attempt to carry out their plunder¬ 
ing purposes, I will bring down upon them, within eight and forty 
hours, a British force that will give them enough to do to take 
care of themselves and their own property, without meddling with 
that of others.” 


on THE Tory's daughter. 


61 


“ That is what we supposed you would be glad to do, in any 
case,” quietly responded Allen. “ It but swells the proof against 
you, and goes to confirm the justice of the decree.” 

“ O, do not say any more, father,” interposed Miss HavIIand, 
with much feeling. “ Do not, I beg of you, further and more 
inextricably involve yourself. You know how gladly I would 
have saved you from this; how often warned you of the conse¬ 
quences of persisting in your course. Perhaps it is not too late 
to retract, even now. Who knows but the council, who have 
done this but from a sense of duty to their country, and with no ill 
will against you personally, may yet be induced, if you will send 
in a pledge of neutrality, to reverse their sentence as regards 
you, and still leave you in possession of your property and a 
quiet home ? I myself, feeble girl as I am, would go before 
them to intercede for you ; and perhaps this gentleman would 
assist me,” she added, with an appealing glance to Allen. 

‘‘ Most gladly,” replied the latter, touched at the magnanimity 
of the girl, in her distress — “ most gladly, and with great hope 
of success.” 

“ Do you hear that, father ? ” said the other, eagerly; “ do yuu 
hear what I feel — I know — may yet be done* for you ? The.i 
do not reject my petition, but retract, and give up your intention 
of joining these invaders of your country.” 

“ No,” replied the old gentleman, after a moment of appa¬ 
rent wavering — “no, never! Let the plunderers take posses¬ 
sion of my estate here for the short time they will be enabled 
to hold it, if they will. To-morrow morning I start for the Briiish 
camp.” 

“ it is as I feared,” observed Allen, turning to the daughter; 

I “ but your efforts to rescue your father. Miss Haviland, and the 
I noble stand you have taken on this occasion and before, are, let 
i me assure you, appreciated by myself, and will not fail to be so 
I by those of more controlling influence. And although this prop- 
j erty will, in a few days, be sold by those duly appointed, and 
1 now here to guard and dispose of it, yet the government, which 
i has the power to confiscate, will have the power to restore ; and 
I I have no fears that your own interests will eventually be made 
to suffer by a measure which may now appear as harsh to you as 
i it appeared necessary to the upright and patriotic men who felt 
I themselves constrained to adopt it. In this you may trust, I 
1 think, as regards the future. As for the present, I am only em- 
i powered to offer you an asylum in some friendly family of the 
neighborhood, with ample means of support, or, if you prefer, a 
a 




62 


THE HANGERS, 


safe coveyance, with a female attendant, should you desire it, 
to any family in a more distant part of the state.” 

“ My daughter will probably go with me, sir,” said Havi- 
land, resentfully. 

“ No, father,” said the girl, firmly ; “ that army is no proper 
place for a young lady, and especially one of my views. I shall, 
for the present, go into the family of our neighbor Risdon ; but 
in a few days, I will gratefully accept of Mr. Allen’s offer of a 
conveyance, and, as I proposed to you a short time ago, go to my 
connections on the other side of the mountains.” 

“ Your wishes will be attended to in this or any other respect 
as soon as you shall please to signify them. Miss Haviland,” said 
the secretary, as, bowing a respectful adieu, he now departed, 
with part .of his armed attendants, for other and similar visits, 
which remained to be accomplished that night among the unsus¬ 
pecting tories of that vicinity. 

Within an hour or two after the departure of Allen, or as soon 
as the growing darkness would enable a skulker to approach un¬ 
seen, a man, who was of the latter description evidently, might 
have been discovered slowly and cautiously making a circuit 
round the house, but at so respectable distance from it as to 
escape the observation of the guard now stationed at three or four 
commanding points about the premises. When he had reached 
a point nearly opposite to the back door, he ventured up to the 
border of the intervening garden, and gave a low, significant 
whistle. After a momentary silence, a slight rustling was heard 
in a thick patch of corn occupying a portion of the garden, and 
Peters, who, it will be recollected, passed out in this direction, 
and who, perceiving his retreat cut off by men already posted in 
the fields,” had here lain concealed till now, cautiously emerged 
from his covert, and came forward to the spot where the other 
stood awaiting his approach. 

“ Well, Redding,” said Peters, in a low voice, as he came up. 
“ when I asked you this morning to come here to Haviland’s to¬ 
night to see me, before I went to the army, I didn’t exactly ex¬ 
pect you would have to call me put of a corn patch to receive 
my orders. But how came you to know or suspect I was here ? 
You have not ventured in there, I take it ? ” he added, leading 
the way into the field, which the guard had now left. 

“No,” replied the other; “I caught a glimpse of the fellows 
in the yurd as 1 came in sight, and, mistrusting what was to pay. 
from what 1 had just heard of their movements this forenoon in 
Manchester, and other towns thereabouts I struck off across tho 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


63 


pasture, where I luckily encountered the old squire, who walked 
out there, after the leader of the gang had lef. and who told me 
of your concealment, and all.” 

“ Yes, he came to the back door, here, the first chance he 
could get, to see if I had escaped, when, contriving to apprise 
him where I was, I had got a moment’s talk with him just before. 
But what have you heard about their movements in other places 
to-day ? ” 

‘‘ Why, I met Asa Bose going post-haste to warn our friends in 
this direction to be on their guard. He says they have seized on 
the estates of all the Rose family, and every other leading loyal¬ 
ist, as far as they could hear, in all that section ; and, in several 
instances, put the owners themselves under guard. What do you 
say to all that, colonel ? ” 

“ Glad of it. Though an act of lawlessness and audacity 
which I did not once dream of their attempting, and which, even 
now, they will not dare to carry out, should they have time to do 
so before their brief career is arrested, yet I am glad the rebel 
fools have done it; for, between you and me, Redding, I have 
had my doubts whether the British government, which is ever too 
merciful, would take their estates from them, when we come to 
subdue them, as you know we have talked ; but now vengeance 
will be swift and certain. Their estates will all be seized and 
given to the deserving.” 

Ay, that’s it!” exclaimed the perfidious minion, with a 
chuckle of satisfaction ; “ it will give us our revenge, and at the 
same time supply us with the needful. I have a good many 
scores to settle with the people about here; and I know of the 
farm of a certain rebel that I shall ask for my share, as I think 1 
justly may, seeing how active I’ve been this summer. 

“ Yes, yes,” replied Peters, rather impatiently ; but there must 
be no more wavering and turning with. you. What you ask you 
must earn, remember.” 

“ You see if I don’t! only name what you would have me do, 
colonel I ” eagerly responded the other. 

Well, I will now,” said the former, coming to a halt. “Yes, 
as we are, by this time, fairly out of reach and hearing of these 
foiled rebels, who have so kindly yielded me a pass through this 
side of their watch, thinking, doubtless, that I could not have been 
in the house when they surrounded it, but should be there this 
evening—yes, 1 will give you my orders now, which will em¬ 
brace a fresh item or two above what I intended before some of 
the occurrences of this afternoon. Well, in the first place, you 


64 


THE RANGERS, 


are to proceed to Castleton, and join the northern company there 
collected and ready for operations at the Kemington rendezvous. 
You will then become tlie guide and assistant of the leader of that 
force, which is to move on to some secret and safe place, to 
be selected by you (as you know the localities, and the leader 
don’t) in the woods near the Twenty Mile Encampment, where, 
acting as the advanced corps of our planned expedition to the 
Connecticut by that route, they will remain concealed as much 
as possible, tifl further orders, watching all movements of the 
rebels, and drawing in eve^y trusty loyalist that can be ap¬ 
proached. And mark me, Redding, while there, or elsewhere, 
remember, that accursed VVoodburn is a doomed man, and is to 
be taken, if found, and kept for my disposal. And I have anoth¬ 
er order, which must be left still more to your especial manage¬ 
ment. Haviland’s daughter, with whom you know, I suppose, 
how I am situated, has got some dangerous notions into her head, 
and, refusing to hear to her father, who wishes her to go with 
him to the army, has determined to go to her relatives, over the 
mountain, in a carriage the rebels have promised to provide 
her. She will be along that road, probably, soon after you get to 
your rendezvous. She must be stopped, and conducted, with 
good treatment, mind you, back, through some secret route, to 
the British camp, where her father, though he knows nothing 
of my plan, will be glad to receive and keep her. And now I 
will be off to my horse, which I luckily left at the house of a 
friend, on the cross road, about a mile to the west of us.” 

“ Will you go far on your journey to-night.^ ” 

“ About seven miles, to the house of another friend, where I 
am to be joined by the squire in the morning, and, with him, 
proceed directly to the army.” 

“ How soon are we to hear from you ? ” 

“ Within ten days, or sooner. I shall, with all possible de¬ 
spatch, organize and prepare the force designed for the purpose ; 
when I shall sweep on through Arlington and Manchester, and,* 
after teaching them a few lessons in that quarter, proceed at once 
to join you. There ! you now know all; go, and remember that 
secrecy and vengeance are the watchwords.” 

“ Ay, ay; 1 am your man for all that, colonel,” responded the 
heartless tool, as the two now separated to depart on their differ¬ 
ent destinatior 3 . 


OB THE toby’s DAUGHTER. 


65 


CHAPTER V. 


What nearer foe is liirkin^f in the glade ? — 

But joy ! Columbia’s friends are trampling through the sl ade ! ” 


One of the earliest and most noted of the houses of public 
entertainment in Vermont was that of Captain John Coffin, situated 
in the north part of Cavendish, on the old military road, cut out, 
in the French wars, by the energetic General Amherst, with a 
regiment of New Hampshire Boys, and extending from Number 
Four, as Charleston on the Connecticut was then called, to the 
fortresses on Lake Champlain. This tavern, at the time of the 
revolution, being on the very outskirts of the settlements on the 
east side of the Green Mountains, was long the general resort 
of the soldier and the common wayfarer for rest and refreshment, 
before and after passing over the long and dreary route of moun¬ 
tain wilderness lying between the eastern and western settlements 
of the state. And to the soldier, especially, it was a favorite 
haven ; the more so, doubtless, from the congenial character 
of its frank, fearless, patriotic, but blunt and unpolished landlord, 
whose substantial cheer and hearty welcome, money or no money, 
usually caused him to be looked upon as a friend, as well as a 
good entertainer. To this then widely-known establishment we 
will now repair, to note the occurrences next to be related in the 
progress of our story. 

On a dark and cloudy afternoon, about ten days after the events 
related in the last chapter, a company of five persons were as¬ 
sembled in the rudely finished bar-room of the inn just described. 
Of these, three were strangers, or pretended strangers,'to the 
house and each other; having dropped in at different intervals 
during the afternoon. Of the two others, one was the landlord, 
whose burly frame, rough, open features, and fear-nought coun¬ 
tenance need have left none in doubt of either the physical or 
moral traits which experience proved he possessed. The other, 
a somewhat tall, thin, gaunt man, of a weather-beaten visage, and 
a sort of sly, scrutinizing look, was an old acquaintance of the 
reader. As of old, his large powcer-horn and ball-pouch were 
Blung under his left arm, and his long, heavy rifle, standing by 




66 


THE RANGERS, 


his side, was resting on the sill of the open window, beneath 
which ho had seated himself, so as to enable him to note what 
might be passing without as well as within. The manner in 
which the latter and the landlord occasionally exchanged glances, 
implied a previous and familiar acquaintance, the usual manifes¬ 
tations of which seemed to be repressed by the presence of the 
three guests first named, who were evidently objects of the secret 
suspicion of the former. But all this, for some time, might have 
passed unheeded by any but close observers; for few remarks, 
and those of the briefest and most common-place kind, were 
offered ; and an inclination for silence and reserve was manifest 
among the company. 

A circumstance at length Occurred, however, which quickly 
awakened the landlord from his apparent apathy, and brought 
some of the leading characteristics of the man at once into view. 
A very large and powerfully-made black dog, which belonged to 
the house, had just marched into the room, and laid down to 
sleep in the middle of the floor; when one of the strangers, 
whom we have noticed, in returning from the bar, wdiere he had 
been for a drink of water, trod on the animal’s tail, either through 
accident or design — probably the latter ; — at least the landlord 
seemed to suspect so ; for his countenance instantly flashed with 
indignation, and, turning abruptly to the aggressor, he said,— 

“ What was that done for, sir ? ” 

“ Done for ? ” replied the other, indifferently. “ Why, it was 
done because the dog was in my way. Tf he don’t want his tail 
trod on, he must keep out from under foot; that’s all.” 

“ Well, sir,” rejoined the former, in no gentle tones, “ I don’t 
know who you are; but whether whig or tory, gentle or simple, 
1 shall just take the liberty to tell you, that if 1 was sure you did 
that intentionally, I would pull your ears for you ; for, if any 
living being has a good right to remain undisturbed, and do as he 
likes in this house, it is that dog. Roarer, come here, my old 
friend,” he added, turning to fondle the creature, that now, drop¬ 
ping the menacing attitude he had assumed towards the aggressing 
stranger, came up and thrust his huge snout into his master’s lap. 
“ Yes, old fellow, while I live, you shall never want a friend to 
avenge your wrongs, though I have to fight a regiment to do it! 
And aint I right in that, Dunning } ” he still further remarked, 
turning to the hunter. 

“ Der yes, if needful,” replied the latter; “ but the ditter dog, 
I’m thinking, would ask no favors, if you would give him leave 
to der do his own work on meddlers.” 


OR THE Tory’s daug' ter. 


67 


“ O, that wouldn’t do, you know, Tom,” rejoined the former ; 
“ for, if I but said the word. Roarer would tear him in shoe¬ 
strings, as quick as you could say Jack Roberson ! No ; I’ll set¬ 
tle the hash myself. And I am now ready to hear the fellow’s 
explanation,” he added, again turning sternly to the aggressor. 

But the last-named questionable personage, not relishing the 
course matters were taking, now, in a subdued and altered tone, 
promptly disclaimed any intention of touching the dog, and ex¬ 
pressed his regret at what had happened. 

“ O, that’s enough,” said Coffin, instantly cooling off. “ All 
right now, Roarer. You may lie down again, sir,” he continued, 
waving away the dog, that had faced round, and still stood suspi¬ 
ciously eyeing the offender. “ Yes, that’s enough ; we’ll call 
the matter settled. But by way of explaining to you, who are 
strangers, what I have said about that dog’s claims to my friend¬ 
ship and protection, I must tell you a story, which will show you 
how much the noble creature is deserving at my hands. 

“ Six years ago, the seventh day of last March, as I was re¬ 
turning from the settlements on Otter Creek, a distance of from 
twenty to thirty miles, through the then entire wilderness, with 
the snow nearly five feet deep on a level, and the weather so cold 
and stormy, that 1 was compelled to travel with great-coat on, as 
well as snow-shoes, I undertook to cross one of the ponds in 
Plymouth on the ice, which I supposed perfectly sound and safe 
for any thing that could be got on to it. But for some reason or 
other, there seemed to have been one place, concealed from view 
by the snow, so thin and spongy, that the moment I stepped upon 
it, I went down some feet below the surface into the water, while 
the snow and broken ice at once closed over me. And although 
I succeeded in forcing my way up through the slush, and getting 
my head above water, yet I soon found it, hampered as I was 
with snow-shoes and great-coat, impossible to get out. As sure 
as I tried to raise myself by the treacherous support at the sides, 
so sure was it to give way, and precipitate me back into the water. 
But still I struggled on, till chilled to the vitals, so benumbed that 
I could scarcely move a. limb, and* growing weaker and weaker 
at every effort, I could do no more ; and I saw myself gradually 
sinking for the last time. O heavens ! who can describe my 
sensations — who conceive the thousand thougnts that flashed 
through my mind at that horrible moment! But just as I was 
on the point of giving up in despair, I caught a glimpse of my 
dog (that had taken a circuit wide from me after some game) 
coming on to the pond. I raised one faint shout — it was all I 


68 


THE RANGERS, 


could do, — and, though nearly a half mile off, he heard it, and 
came on, with monstrous bounds, to the spot. In a moment he 
was there ; and, after giving me one look, — I can never forget 
that look,— he slid down to the very verge of the hole to try to 
assist me. With a struggle, 1 made out to raise one hand out 
of the water within his reach. He seized the cuff of my coat, 
and, drawing back with the seeming strength of a draught-horse, 
he, with one pull, brought me half out of the water. With a des¬ 
perate effort on my part, and another on his, the next instant I 
was lying helpless, but safe, on the ice, while the dog fairly 
howled aloud for joy ! 1 said safe; for as hopeless as some 

might have viewed my situation, even then, wet, benumbed, 
nearly dead with cold and exhaustion, and many miles from any 
human help or habitation, as I was, yet rallying every energy I 
had left me, and rolling, kicking, and pawing, to put my blood in 
motion, and regain the use of my limbs, I soon got on to my 
feet; when, seizing my gun, that I had hurled aside as I went 
down, 1 made for a dry tree in sight, fired into a spot of spunk I 
luckily found on one side of it, kindled a fire, warmed and dried 
myself, set forward again, and reached home that night ; but 
w’ith feelings towards that dog, sir, that I can never know towards 
any other created being — not even, in some respects, tow'ards my 
wife and children. Yes, sir ; I will not only fight, but, if need be, 
die for him.” 

While the captain was relating his oft-told but truthful ad¬ 
venture with his justly-prized dog, the quick eye of Dunning 
caught, through the window, a glimpse of a recognized form, 
approaching in the road from the east; and slipping out unno¬ 
ticed from the room, he beckoned the approaching personage 
round the corner of the house, and when safely out of the 
hearing and observation of those in the bar-room, he turned to 
the other, and said,— 

“ Der devil’s in the wind. Captain Harry ! ” 

“ How so ? Have you discovered the suspected rendezvous ? ” 

“ Der yes ; and more too.” 

“ Indeed ! where is it ? 

“ Ditter 'deep in the thickets, on the west side of the pond 
nearest the great road over the mountains.” 

“Ah, ha! but their numbers.? any more,‘probably, than the 
small club we supposed .? 

“ Der double, and then the ditter double of that, if it don’t 
make more than twenty.” 

** You surprise me, Dunning. Are you sure ? ” 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


69 


‘ Sure as that I am der talking to Captain Wcodburn.’’' 

“ Impossible ! It must be some secret meeting of the disaf¬ 
fected in this quarter.” 

“ Der not that, but a regularly armed force, and, with the ditter 
exception of two or three about-home tories, may be, all strange 
laces, including a sprinkling of red skins, brought along with 
them for ditter decency’s sake, I suppose.” 

“ But how could such a force get so far into the interior un¬ 
detected ? How dare they venture on so hazardous a move¬ 
ment ? and what cah be their designs in so doing ? ” 

“ Der here is something that ditter tells a rather loud story about 
that; at least, as to the matter of intentions,” said the hunter, 
by way of reply, taking a crumpled paper from his cap and 
handing it to the other. 

Woodburn took the paper, and eagerly ran over its contents; 
which to his astonishment he found to be a copy of an order from 
General Burgoyne to Colonel Peters, detailing the plan of an 
expedition, to be conducted by the latter, with one hundred loyal¬ 
ists and a company of Indians, by way of the head waters of 
Otter Creek, across the mountains to Connecticut River, where 
this force was to be jo.ned by the loyal troops from Rhode 
Island, and directing him “ to scour the country, levy contribu¬ 
tions, take hostages, make prisoners of all civil and military 
officers acting under Congress, collect horses, and, after pro¬ 
ceeding down the river as far as Brattleborough, return to the 
great road to Albany.” * 

“ How did this get into your hands, Dunning } ” demanded 
the surprised and excited officer, as soon as he had mastered the 
contents. 

“ Der well, having crept along near the edge of the pond 
within ten or twelve rods of their camp, I was lying in the bushes 
for discoveries ; when ditter one of ’em — their leader, I suppose 
— came down to the pond, for observation, likely; and, while 


* The document here quoted was brought to General Stark on his 
advance through Vermont; and there can be but little doubt of its 
genuineness ; as it afterwards came out, in the trial of Burgoyne, in the 
British Parliament, that such an expedition was actually started, but 
subsequently changed for that of Bennington. How considerable a por¬ 
tion of the whole intended force penetrated into the interior is not ascer¬ 
tained. But we have the authority of the oldest inhabitants for asserting, 
that a portion of *his force did cross over the mountains, and some of 
them even reached Springfield; when, owing to the unexpected move¬ 
ments they found going on among the people, and the rumored advance 
of Stark, all, who were not taken, speedily decamped. 



70 


THE RANGERS, 


peering up and down the shore, a gust of wind blew his hat off 
into the water. But though he regained his ditter hat and dis¬ 
appeared, I soon saw a piece of white paper blowing along in 
the water towards me. After a while, it reached the sort o.f point 
where I was, and lodging against a bush, I secured it, and found 
it this same thing. What do you think of it, captain.? ” 

“ Why, it unfolds a plan too bold for credence.” 

“ Not too bold for my ditter credence, captain.” 

“ Then you think it no feint ? ” 

“ Der no, sir, but a regular bred expedition, which they mean 
to push as soon as more force arrives. I have been ditter 
watching things a little since 1 got at this wrinkle. They have 
spies out in every direction. ’Tis not an hour since 1 espied a 
fellow peering from the corner of the woods up yonder, w’ho, I 
think, must be that treacherous ditter devil, David Redding ; and 
there are three now in the bar-room of the same kidney.” 

“ Ah ! well, all this may be. Such an expedition may have been 
set afoot at the instigation of such fellows as Spencer, who, 
having left-the Council of Safety before any thing was done, and 
while its distracted counsels seemed to preclude all prospect that 
any thing would be done for the defence of the state. Ay, that 
is it; and little dreaming of what has since transpired, Peters, 
who is probably behind, with the main force, has sent forward 
this as a sort of pioneer corps, who, coming over a route now 
mostly deserted by our people, have penetrated here nearly to the 
Twenty Mile Encampment, without once suspecting what is going 
on through the rest of the state. But that is a secret, which, 
thanks to the prompt patriotism shown by our young men in en¬ 
listing, we shall now soon be able to teach them ; for my com¬ 
pany is already nearly full; and, if you have notified the recruits 
you enlisted, Sergeant Dunning, they will all be here for mustering 
by to-morrow night.” 

“ All done, as in der duty bound, captain; and six of my men 
said they would be here this evening.” 

“ Indeed ! there will be almost enough of us, if your six recruits 
all get in, to make a pounce upon this nest of vipers to-night. 
Let’s see ; six — you, myself, and Captain Coffin, and-” 

“ And der Bart, if he comes; ditter don’t you expect him 
along here to-night.? ” 

“ 1 do. Miss Haviland, according to the letter of Mr. Allen, 
who wrote some days ago, to apprise me of her coming, would 
have started, I calculate, this morning ; and Bart, whom I im¬ 
mediately despatched to act as her guard on the way, will of 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


71 


course come with her. They will probably arrive before long, 

now — unless-” and the speaker suddenly paused at the 

new and startling thought that now seemed to occur to him. 

“ Unless,” said Dunning, guessing the thoughts of the other, 
and taking up the supposition — “ unless beset by some-of this 
crew, who are ordered to take prisoners and hostages. But der 
stay ; didn’t I catch the glimmer of a distant horseman then ? ” 
he continued, pointing along the partially wooded road to the 
west. “ There ! that was a clearer view ; and, by the dilter 
darting kind of gait of the horse, I should think it might be 
Lightfoot, and the short rider the critter we’ve been talkiiifr 
about.” 

The hunter’s eye had not misled him ; for in a few minut( 3 S 
the horseman emerged from the forest into open view, and con¬ 
firmed the conjecture that had just been made respecting his 
identity. As he neared the house, perceiving Woodbuim and 
Dunning beckoning to him from behind the buildings, he threw 
himself from his saddle, leaped over the fence, and approached 
them. 

“ The news, sir ? What is itSpeak ! ” eagerly exclaimed 
Woodburn, as Bart, with a downcast and troubled look, drew 
near. 

“ Bad as need to be, consarn it!” replied the latter, with an 
air of mingled vexation and self-reproach. “ But I couldn’t 
help it.” 

- “Help what.? What has happened.? Where is the lady.?” 
rapidly asked the alarmed and impatient lover. 

“ Taken prisoner by the tories, as I guessed ’em. She and 
Vine Howard, that come with her, and the boy that drove ’em.” 

“ How .? when .? where .? ” 

“ Why, as we were coming down this side the mountain, and 
when nearly to the bottom, five or six fellows, with guns, rushed 
out of the bush, seized the horse, pulled out the women, and 
hurried them off with two of their number into the woods to¬ 
wards the pond ; while the rest made a push to take me, who 
was riding just behind. But firing a pistol in their faces, and 
giving Lightfoot my stiffest sign, we dashed through or over 
them, and escaped, with their bullets whistling after us, one after 
another, till we were out of reach.” 

“ These ladies shall be rescued before I sleep, or I will perish 
in the attempt,” said Woodburn, with stern emphasis. “ Let us 
arm and set forward immediately with the best force we can 
raise.’ 



73 


THE RAKGERS, 


“ Theie is a thing or two to be ditter done first, it strikes me,”- 
observed Dunning, with his usual coolness ; “ that is, if we don’ 
want enemies both before and behind us, on the way.” 

“ What is that, Dunning ? ” 

“ Secure those three chaps in the bar-room, or they’ll be ditter 
sure either to be on our heels, or get there before us to taise the 
alarm of our coming.” 

“ Are they armed, think you ? ” 

“ With ditter knives only. I’m thinking — their guns may have 
been left in the point of woods yonder, in charge of the spy I 
named, who, now I ditter think on’t, ought to be taken about the 
same time, for fear of some secret signal being given.” 

The suggestions of Dunning, who, as the reader will already 
have inferred, had been made a sergeant in Woodburn’s company 
of Rangers, were at once approved by his superior, who accord¬ 
ingly, as the first step, despatched him and Bart to the woods, 
where the man conjectured to be in charge of the arms of his 
comrades was supposed to be concealed. After waiting till the 
two others might have had time to gain the woods in question, 
Woodburn left his stand, and, passing round to the front of the 
house, boldly marched into the bar-room, where the three sus¬ 
pected personages still sat listening to the stories with which the 
landlord, who suspected what was in progress, seemed intent on 
amusing them. They, however, now seemed suddenly to lose 
all interest in the recital going on, and, after exchanging uneasy 
and significant glances, simultaneously rose to depart. 

“ You are my prisoners, gentlemen,” said Woodburn, stepping 
before them and presenting a cocked pistol. 

For a moment, the surprised tories stood mute in alarm and 
doubt, alternately glancing from their armed opponent to the 
landlord, and from the latter to the door and windows, as if 
weighing the chances and means of escape. But, the next instant, 
two of them suddenly turned, and drawing and flourishing their 
knives behind them, sprang for the open windows, with the inten¬ 
tion of leaping through them. 

“At ’em. Roarer! ” exclaimed Coffin,seizing one escaping tory 
by the leg, and hurling him back with stunning effect upon the 
floor. 

The dog was but little behind his master in drawing back, by 
a grip in his clothes, the other to the floor, where he was glad to 
lie without offering further resistance to the grim and growling 
conqueror standing over him. The third, in the mean while, not 
daring to stir lest a worse fate should befall him, standing as he 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


IS 


was directly before the muzzle of Woodburn’s pistol, and seeing 
the situation of his comrades, immediately submitted ; when all, 
giving up their concealed arms, now quietly yielded themselves 
as prisoners. 

In a few minutes after the surrender of the tories, their guns 
were brought in by Dunning and Bart, who found them at the 
suspected place, though the traitor. Redding, whom they identified, 
had just taken the alarm, and was seen retreating over a distant 
knoll as they came up to the spot. 

The prisoners being left in charge of the landlord’s oldest boy, 
who was armed for the purpose, and the dog Roarer, the rest of 
the company now retired to another part of the house, to devise 
measures for the rescue of the fair captives, for which a prelim¬ 
inary step only had as yet been taken. Having at length fixed on 
the plan of operations which they believed most promising of auspi¬ 
cious results, they immediately commenced their hasty prepara¬ 
tions for the bold adventure. And Dunning’s six recruits luckily 
arriving in season, the whole company, now consisting of ten 
resolute woodsmen, and led on by a man fully resolved to succeed 
or perish, set forward, a little after sunset, for the scene of action, 
which was several miles distant from the tavern. According to 
the plan that had been adopted, two men were to proceed to the 
eastern shore of the pond, take a log canoe, and, under cover of 
the darkness, row silently over to some point beyond, but near 
the tory encampment; and, after making what discoveries they 
could respecting the situation of the captives, lie in ambush and 
await the operations of the rest of the company, who were to pro¬ 
ceed round by the road, enter the woods, and gain a post on the 
other side of the encampment, and, by a feigned attack, draw 
off the tories, and thus afford the former a favorable moment to 
rush from their concealment and release the captives. And if 
they found this impracticable, they were then to shout aloud the 
watchword. To the rescue! when both parlies of the assailants 
were to make an earnest and desperate onset on the foe. Dun¬ 
ning and Bart, from their known sdgacity and skill as woodsmen, 
and coolness and intrepidity in action, were the two men selected 
to undertake the more difficult and hazardous part first men¬ 
tioned. 

After a rapid and silent march of about an hour, the company 
reached the vicinity of the pond, just as the last suffusions of an 
obscured twilight disappeared in the west, and halted a few min¬ 
utes, that the different parts of the plan might be repeated and 
clearly understood by all before separating. 


74 


THE RANGERS, 


Remember the arrangement, boys,” said Woodburn, address¬ 
ing Dunning and Bart, in a voice which betrayed the intense soli¬ 
citude he felt in the event at issue. “ Recollect the first and main 
objeet is to release and get off the ladies, and if this can be done 
within the hour we will give you for the purpose, as it possibly 
may be, before we make any demonstrations in front, so much 
the better; if not, proceed in the manner agreed on. And may 
Heaven favor the innocent, whose cause, remember, is mostly in 
your hands.” 

With this the company separated, and each party proceeded to 
their different destinations. We will follow the two intrusted with 
the most difficult part of the enterprise. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


75 


CHAPTER VI. 


-“ The first that hear* 

Shall be the first to bleed.” 


The hunter, followed by his young comrade, now leaving the 
rest of the band to proceed to their contemplated stand by the 
main njad, struck off into the woods to the right, and, with silent 
and rapid steps, led the way to the south-eastern shore of the 
pond. Here finding, as he seemed to have expected, a capacious 
canoe, dug out from the trunk of some huge pine, he drew it forth 
from its concealment, beneath a mass of fallen trees projecting 
over the bank, and, bidding Bart enter with the oars, and placing 
one knee on the stern, with a grasp on the sides, gave a push 
with his foot from the shore, which sent his rude craft surging out 
far into the open expanse of water before him. Before applying 
the oars, however, and while the canoe continued to move under 
the impulse it had thus received, its occupants employed them¬ 
selves in bending their heads to the water, and listening for any 
sounds that might indicate the presence of others abroad on the 
pond. The night, as it was yet moonless, and as the sky was 
overclouded, was consequently a dark one; and the adventurers 
could distinguish little else but the dark outlines of the Green 
Mountains, that rose high in the western heavens, casting, by their 
huge shadows, an impenetrable pall of darkness over the inter¬ 
vening space beneath, from which not a sound rose to the ear, 
save an occasional short croak of some waterfowl, or the low, 
sullen dash of the waters along the shores. 

“ Nothing out on the pond, guess, but loons, ducks, and sich 
like,” quietly observed Bart, raising himself from his listening 
attitude ; “ nor can I make out any sounds from the nest of ’em 
you say there is over on the shore yonder. Ma’be they’ve pulled 
up stakes and are off with their traps, the wimin folks and all — 
shouldn’t wonder, single bit.” 

“ Now I reason a little ditter different,” replied the sergeant. 
“ They may be getting oneasy and suspicious, because their spies 
we took there at Coffin’s don’t return ; and so keep still, and put 
out their fires, lest the absent ones.be dogged back, and their ren¬ 
dezvous thus discovered; but I der don’t believe the company 






76 


THE RANGEHS, 


would clear out till they knew what become of them. They are 
still there, I’m apt to tliink ; so we will now put forward — first 
up north a piece, on this side, and then across and down to a little 
cove there is near their encampment.” 

So saying, Dunning took up one of the oars, and, with long, 
'vigorous^ but noiseless strokes, sent the boat rapidly ahead ; while 
the other took a position most favorable for a lookout. In this 
manner, and taking turns at the oar, they soon, by the course they 
had marked out for themselves, reached the western side of the 
pond, and, heading round, moved cautiously along the shore 
towards the hostile encampment. 

“Ah! there! one — two — yes, three camp fires, I can der 
catch glimmers of occasionally,” softly exclaimed Dunning, rising 
up in the boat, and peering ahead for observation. “I was right 
— the diiter rapscallions are there, snug in their quarters, but had 
wit enough to build their fires behind logs, or something, so as not 
to be seen from ’tother side. We are within the ditter matter of 
three hundred yards of ’em, now; so carefully, Bart, and don’t 
let your oar graze the boat, or anjy thing, to give out the least 
sound ; for they’ve ears, it’s der probable, as well as we.” 

A short time now sufficed to bring them to the small cove, 
at which the hunter had proposed to land. Here, under the 
screen of an impervious tangle of brushwood and fallen tree tops, 
which intervened between them and the .foe, they drew up their 
boat on to the shore. They then, after taking off their shoes, 
which they left in the canoe, carefully crawled up the bank, 
passed round the thicket, and paused to listen. The sounds of 
voices conversing in low tones in one spot, the slow steps of a 
sentinel in another, and the snoring of some hard sleeper in a third, 
were soon detected by the quick ears of the anxious listeners. 

“ As 1 thought,” whispered Dunning, putting his mouth close to 
the ear of the other ; “ the head ones are ditter suspicious and 
watchful ; but we must try what can be done — at least to find the 
spot where they’ve put the gals. There’s a ditter old shanty I 
used to camp in, about fifty yards ahead ; and as that is probably 
the best they’ve got, I’ve been thinking they may have cooped 
’em in there. Suppose you, who are lightest and smallest, creep 
forward to it, for ditter discoveries. I will follow half way, and 
wait.” 

Without demurring to the suggestion, Bart immediately set for¬ 
ward, on his hands and knees, in the direction indicated by his com* 
panion. Carefully removing every dry twig and leaf from each 
place where he wished to bear his weight, and moving as noise- 



OE THE tort’s DAUGHTER. 


77 


lessly as the preying cat along the ground, he made his way on¬ 
ward till he had gone far enough, as he judged, to reach the 
expected shanty ; when he paused to listen and reconnoitre. But 
now all seemed perfectly still. Not the slightest sound of-any 
kind reached his ears ; while it had, in some unaccountable man¬ 
ner, suddenly become so pitchy dark that he could not distinguish 
a single object before him. And he began to feel confused and 
doubtful about proceeding, when, by the action of those secret and 
undefinable sympathies, perhaps, by which, it is said, we some¬ 
times become apprised of the presence of others before we are 
informed by,the senses, he all at once became impressed with the 
idea that some person was near him. He therefore strained his 
senses to the utmost in trying to discover what objects might be 
before or around him ; but all, for a while, to no purpose. In a 
short time, however, his ear caught the sound of a deep sigh, the 
softness of which told him it came from a female, within a few 
feet of him. With a palpitating heart, he now doubtfully attempted 
to move forward, when he suddenly perceived his head on the 
point of coming in contact with some broad, high obstacle, which 
seemed to rise like a wall before him, Surprised, and still more 
confused than before, he retreated a few paces_, and looked up¬ 
ward, to try to make out the nature of the obstacle before him ; 
when he discovered it to be the backside of the very shanty of 
which he was in search. The strange darkness, which had so 
suddenly overshadowed him, and which was caused by the ob¬ 
struction of the skylight by this rude structure, being now ex¬ 
plained, and every thing made clear to his mind, he cautiously 
moved round towards the front of the shanty, to find the entrance, 
no longer doubting that those he sought were within. On reach¬ 
ing the front corner, so as to enable him to peer round it on that 
side, he soon made out the entrance ; but directly across it, to his 
disappointment, he discovered the half-recumbent form of a man, 
with a musket leaning on his shoulder. After a few hurried ob¬ 
servations, in which he discovered, by the decaying fires before 
them, several other shanties or tents among the trees, a few rods 
in front, Bart again slunk back to the spot he had just left, and 
was about to retrace his way to his companion, when a new 
/hought occurred to him, and, moving up to the back of the shanty, 
Ahich was formed by broad pieces of thick bark standing slant- 
,ngly against a pole supported by crotches, and, placing his'mouth 
lo\ crack, softly whispered the names of the captives, and turned 
6is ear to the spot to catch the hoped-for response. For the first 
‘ moment, all was still; but the next, the catching of a long-sus- 
7 * 




78 


THE RANGERS, 


pended breath, and even, as he thought, the rapid beatings of a 
fluttering bosom, became audible. Presently a slight movement, 
as of a cautiously changed posture, was heard within ; and the 
next instant a pair of soft lips came in contact with his ear at the 
crevice, articulating, in sounds scarcely above the slightest mur¬ 
mur of the air,— 

“ Who speaks my name ? ” 

“ Bart,” replied the other. “ You know what Pm after. Can 
one of the barks between us be removed without alarming youi 
keeper ? ” 

I fear— but he seems asleep — try it,” was the measured and 
hesitating reply. 

After slightly essaying several of the pieces of the bark he wished 
to remove, he at length commenced operations at the bottom of 
one of them, and gently forcing it aside, inch by inch, in a short 
time effected an opening sufficient, as he judged, for the egress 
bf the captives, and that too, he felt confident, without attracting 
the attention of the dozing guard. 

“ Now feel your way out; and, without stirring a twig or leaf, 
creep on after me,” whispered Bart. 

And receding a few paces from the opening, he paused to 
await the result. In a moment he had the satisfaction of per¬ 
ceiving a female form slowly emerging from the narrow passage 
into the open air without. 

Supposing her companion to be immediately behind, he now, 
with a whispered word of encouragement, led the way from the 
spot. With frequent pauses, both to assure himself that he was 
followed by his charge, and to listen for any stir among the foe 
that should indicate a discovery of the escape, he continued to 
creep forward till he encountered Dunning, when, the latter tak¬ 
ing the lead, they all moved on, one after another, in the same 
cautious manner as before, and soon reached the landing in safety ; 
but as they emerged from the bushes, and the hunter turned to 
congratulate the ladies on their escape, it was now, for the first 
time, discovered that but one of them was present. 

“ Bart, how is this ? ditter tell me — where is the other ? ” de¬ 
manded Dunning, in a tone of disappointment and vexation. 

But Bart, equally disappointed and perplexed, was mute; and 
the lady, who proved to be Miss Howard, replied,— 

“ Miss Haviland, if not retaken, is now wandering in the woods.” 

“ Der wandering in ditter woods, and you not with her ? ” 
again demanded the former, with an air of mingled surprise and 
reproach. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


79 


Yes, sir, but I did not intend to desert her,” promptly replied 
the girl. “ Perceiving we were not watched very closely by the 
man they put over us, she and I had thought of a plan of escaping 
into the woods and getting round into the road. And while he was 
talking with another, that he had stepped forward a little ways to 
meet, we slipped out undiscovered, and gained a thicket; when 
finding I had left my shawl, I, contrary to Miss Haviland’s advice, 
I will own, ventured back to get it, and was detected, just as I was 
leaving the shanty a second time, and her absence discovered. 
This made a stir among them, and they ordered off scouts after 
her along the pond towards the road, which was the way I pointed 
when they were threatening me if I didn’t tell. But she must 
have heard all and escaped.” 

“ Escaped ! ditter deuse of an escape that; for a woman to 
get out into a forest full of Indians in search of her,” replied the 
still unreconciled hunter. “ But what course has she der taken, 
think ye, gal ? ” 

“ The one we planned, likely; and that was, to take a wide 
sweep round their camp, gain the road, and make for the tavern, 
which she said was not far off,” replied the other. 

“ Well,” said Dunning, in a more mollified tone, “ though der 
dogs is in the luck, to be sure, yet half a loaf is better than none. 
We must save what we have got; so into the canoe there with 
ye, gal; and you, Bart, take her across, der find Harry, whom I’d 
ditter rather you would meet first, and tell him you have left me 
this side to go in search of the other, who, if found, can most 
likely be got to the road as well the way she set out as this, in the 
shape things now stand.” 

Although this conversation scarcely occupied a minute, and 
although, while the hunter was yet speaking, Bart and his fair 
friend were in their respective positions in the boat, which instantly 
shot out silently and swiftly into the pond, under the vigorous push 
given it by the former, yet the event showed that they had been 
none too speedy in their movements; for, at that instant, a sud- 
den bustle in the tory encampment, which was quickly followed 
by the confused sounds of voices making rapid inquiries and 
giving orders, together with the stealthy tread of approaching^ 
footsteps, apprised the fugitives that not only was their escape 
discovered, but probably also the direction they had taken. 

Der narve it, narve it, Bart! The ditter divils are after ye! ” 
shouted the hunter, hastily retreating from the shore, and disap. 
pearing in the nearest thicket. 

And scarcely had he gained a covert before his place was 


80 


THE RANGERS, 


occupied by four or five of the enemy, who came rushing down 
to the water; when, discovering the receding boat, then not fifty 
yards distant, tlie acting leader of the band fiercely exclaimed, 

Put about there instantly, and come ashore, or we’ll fire and kill 
every person in the boat! ” 

“ O, but you’ll kill us if we come back,” replied Bart, splash¬ 
ing round his oar as if turning the boat, which in fact was going 
swiftly ahead. 

“ No, we won’t,” responded the leader, deceived by the apparent 
simplicity of the reply ; “ but be quick, or we fire! ” 

“ Well, seeing you aint going to hurt us,” said the former, 
carelessly, while at the same time directing, in a whisper, the 
girl to throw herself close on the bottom of the canoe, he silently, 
but with all his might, bent himself to the oar. 

“ Why,” said the leader, after a short and doubtful pause, as 
he peered out in the darkness at the dimly-seen boat — “why, 
aint the fellow still moving ahead ? He is, confound him: fire ! ” 

“ Let drive, then ! ” sung out Bart, with the greatest sang froid^ 
as he hastily cast himself down in the boat. 

The next instant several bullets struck the boat, or whistled 
over it, as the fierce flashings and deafening reports of as many 
exploding muskets burst from the shore with startling effect on 
the darkness and silence of night. 

“ I vown ! but that an’t so bad shooting as might be, in the dark 
80 ,” exclaimed Bart, hastily springing up and seizing his oar. 
“ They are more at the business than 1 thought’em ; and we 
may as well be a little further off afore they have time to load 
and fire agin, guess,” he added, suddenly changing the direction 
of the bc-at from the course it had been taking, and plying the 
oar with an energy which showed rather less indifference to his 
proximity to the hostile marksmen behind him than his words 
might seem to imply. 

The tories, in the mean while, who had foolishly all discharged 
their pieces at once, fell to loading again as fast as was possible 
for them to do in the dark. But before any of them was ready 
to fire, the last traces of the fugitive boat had vanished from their 
view. 

They were, however, after giving vent to their vexation in a 
volley of curses upon the follow who had thus outwitted them, in 
get-ing beyond controlling distance, preparing to fire again, at 
random, in the direction in which the canoe was last seen moving, 
wnen their attention was suddenly arrested by firing in the woods, 
a short distance to the south, which seemed to be an exchange of 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


fil 


Bhols between their pickets and some enemj^ assailing them from 
that direction. I'hey tlierefore hurried back to their companions, 
and with them ra ied to make a stand against the force which all 
supposed was about to storm their encampment. But to their 
agreeable disappointment, though an occasional shot continued to 
be directed towards them by persons who seemed to be lurking 
in the distant thickets, no tangible force made its appearance ; 
for the firing which had so alarmed them, and caused them to 
call in all their scouts within hearing, and make every preparation 
for a desperate resistance, was, as the reader will have already 
imagined, but the feint made by Wooclburn’s party, who, hearing 
the reports of the guns discharged at the escaping canoe, and 
partly divining the cause, had advanced from their concealment, 
and begun to make the diversion agreed on at the outset. But 
not receiving the signal promised, in case help was needed, and 
feeling doubtful how to act, most of them fell back, and ceased 
operations, till Bart, who had, in the mean time, reached the 
shore, and, with the fearless girl he had released, hastened round 
to their post, arrived and informed them of all that had occurred. 
On receiving this aggravating intelligence, VVoodburn, now al¬ 
most frantic with disappointment and anxiety, instantly withdrew 
to the road with all his band, except two left to keep the enemy 
in a state of alarm ; when they all, including even the heroic 
Vine Howard, immediately scattered in different directions through 
the dark forest in anxious search for the luckless Miss Haviland, 
to whom we will now return, for the purpose of following her in 
the wild and perilous adventures she was destined to encounter 
on that event!:night. 



89 


THE HANGERS, 


\ 


CHAPTER VII. 


“Unshrinking from the storm, 

Well have ye borne your part, 

With womati’s fragile form, 

Bu^more than manhood’s heart.”— Whittier,^ 


The observation is no less true than trite, that no one knows, 
till he has tried it, what he can do or endure; And as just as is 
the remark in a general application, it is, we apprehend, more 
strikingly so when applied to the gentler sex; for, from the 
position they occupy in social life, their powers of action or en¬ 
durance are so seldom fully put to the test, that they are generally 
far less conscious than men of what deeds they might accomplish, 
or what degree of suffering they might endure, in emergencies 
calculated to call forth the highest energies of their physical and 
moral natures. And if there be any disparity between the number 
of heroes and heroines in the world, such emergencies as we have 
named are only wanting, we believe, to make up any deficiency 
that may be found in the latter. 

When Miss Haviland ascertained that her too venturous 
companion had been intercepted and retaken, in the manner 
mentioned in the preceding chapter, she for a moment greatly 
hesitated whether to return and yield herself again to her captors, 
or persevere in her attempt to escape. But, beginning to suspect 
the true source of the present misfortune, which, if her suspicions 
were just, pointed only at herself, and thinking that her escape 
would soon lead to the voluntary release of her companion, she 
quickly decided on the latter alternative, and glided noiselessly 
away into the depths of the forest. 

After proceeding in a direct course from the camp to such a 
distance as should preclude the possibility that any ordinary 
sound made in walking through the woods would reach her cap- 
tws, unless they were in actual pursuit behind, of which her often 
strained senses had as yet given her no evidence, she turned short 
to the south, and, in pursuance of the hasty plan formed by her¬ 
self and companion at the outset, now made her way, as fast as 
the darkness and the usual obstacles of the woods would permit, 
towards the road, her only guide being the parallel swells of land, 
which, running north and south, rose, as she had luckily noticed 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


83 


before dark, in successive lifts up the mountain to the west. 
Still hearing no sounds of pursuit, she began to entertain strong 
hopes that she should be permitted to reach the road unmolested. 
In this, however, she was doomed to be disappointed ; for, in a 
short time, a cracking, as of dry twigs under the tread of some 
one stealthily advancing, arrested her attention, and brought her 
to a stand. Fortunately, no part of her dress was sufficiently 
light-colored to betray her. And, having nothing to fear from 
this, and believing that, by placing herself in close contact with 
some natural object, she might still have a good chance to be 
passed undetected, she glided to the nearest tree, and, placing 
her back to the side opposite to the suspected foe, awaited his 
approach in breathless silence. Presently he came up, and, 
after pausing a moment within a few yards of her, apparently 
to listen and reconnoitre, he passed by so near as to graze 
the bark of the tree behind which she stood, and moved care¬ 
lessly on some distance before again pausing to repeat his re- 
connoissance. She drew a long breath; but, before she dared 
move from her stand, the sounds of other approaching feet reached 
her ears. And soon two more men, evidently on the same search, 
passed by her, at different distances to the east, and, like the first 
one, bent their courses northward. After waiting till all sound 
of their receding steps had wholly died away, she again moved 
forward, and soon had the satisfaction of finding herself in the 
road, but a short distance from the spot where, a few hours 
before, she and her attendant had been captured. It remained 
now to get beyond the tory encampment. Could she be permit¬ 
ted to pass down the mountain, in the road, but a half mile, she 
might then consider the danger mostly over, and proceed on to 
the tavern in comparative safety. And, though aware that this 
portion of the way might be scarcely less dangerous than any she 
had passed over, yet, tempted by the facility with which it could 
be accomplished in the road, she resolved to make the attempt, 
and accordingly, with a guarded but rapid step, began to move 
down the sloping way before her. But she had proceeded but a 
short distance, when she was startled by the loud report of fire¬ 
arms in the direction of the tory encampment, which, as already 
described, were, just at that moment, being discharged at the 
escaping canoe. While pausing in doubt at the meaning of this 
unexpected outbreak, the random firing of Wood burn’s party, 
which we noted as soon following that of the tories, now burst 
from the forest a little before her on the left, and greatly in¬ 
creased her perplexity. Suddenly conceiving the idea, from 


84 


THE HANGERS, 


these circumstances, that the tories had been assailed in their 
rear, and were now retreating towards her, and this notion being 
the next moment confirmed by tlie glimpses she caught of a dark 
form emerging from the bushes on the left, whom she mistook 
for a foe, she hastily turned and fled, in agitation and alarm, into 
the opposite forest bordering the road on the south, having thus 
approached within a few rods of the very men who were in 
search of her, and thus unconsciously eluded their friendly grasp. 
Though intending soon to turn her course eastward, so as to 
come out again into the road at such a point as should place her 
beyond any danger of a recapture, yet, urged by her fears lest 
her foes should cross the road and overtake her, she pressed on 
so far into the depths of the woods, that when she paused to change 
her course, she became confused and doubtful respecting the 
direction she should take to regain the road in the manner she 
had proposed. She had now no further knowledge of the make 
of the land, or the situation of the hills, by which she could be 
guided. But at length, fixing on a course which she thought most 
likely to be the right one, she again set forward, slowly picking 
her way through the swampy and tangled tract of forest into 
which she seemed now to have entered. In this manner she 
pursued her dubious course onward nearly an hour, every mo¬ 
ment expecting that the next would bring her out into the road. 
At length she fell in with a small stream, which she rightly 
judged to be one of the brooks running into Black River, and 
which, from what she knew of the course of that river, she sup¬ 
posed would lead nearly in the direction she sought to go. But 
on stooping down to feel the current, she, to her great surprise, 
found it running in a course directly oj)posite from whar she 
expected. Scarcely knowing now which way to direct her steps, 
she passed over the stream, and, with a sense of desolation, 
growing out of the thought that she was lost in the depths of the 
wilderness, which she had never before experienced, wandered 
on, and on, for several of the successive hours of that dark and 
dismal night. At last she came to the top of a high swell, 
where, the new aspect presented in the slope of the forest before 
her naturally causing her to pause, she dropped down upon an 
old mossy log to rest her worn and wearied frame, and try to 
collect her confused and scattered faculties. While here en¬ 
deavoring to rally her sinking spirits, and compose her thoughts 
so as to look more coolly on her situation, she began to discern, 
through the openings of the foliage, the dark outlines of a high 
mooutain, rising, at the distance of two or three miles, directly 


OB THE TOKi^’s DAUGHTER. 


85 


in front of her. It now occurred to her that, like other persons 
lost in the woods, of whom she had heard, she might have been, 
all this time, wandering in a circle, and that the mountain before 
her might be the very one she supposed she had left far behind 
her, west of the tory encampment. If this supposition should 
prove correct, the long-sought road must lie somewhere between 
her and the mountain in view, and a little more perseverance in 
that direction would consequently put an end to those perplexities 
which were now becoming more painful and dread than any 
sensations she had experienced from the pursuit of her enemies. 
Encouraged by the gleam of hope which this thought imparted 
to her almost despairing mind, she started up, and again nerved 
herself for the task of meeting the many difficulties which she 
knew, at the best, yet remained to be overcome. It had, by 
this time, in consequence of a scattering of the clouds, or the 
rising of a waning moon, become perceptibly lighter, and, for the 
next hour, her progress was much more direct and easy. By 
this time, she came to a spot in the forest which was sufficiently 
open to give her another and fairer view of the mountain she 
had been approaching. She^ooked upon its dark sides a mo¬ 
ment, and the pleasant delusion under which she had been labor¬ 
ing wholly vanished from her mind. She saw it could not be 
the mountain she had hoped to find it, nor indeed any she had 
ever seen ; and she again gave herself up as lost, perhaps, 
irretrievably lost, far away and deep in the dark recesses of a 
howling wilderness, from which she might never be extricated. 
And yet her usual firmness did not wholly forsake her. “ Is not 
your life of more value than many sparroivs in the sight of Him 
who careth for all } ” she mentally exclaimed ; and she was 
calmed and comforted by the ready affirmative which her faith 
responded. 

AVhile casting about her in doubt respecting the next step to be 
taken, she discovered traces of what was evidently once an im¬ 
perfect road, or path, which seemed to e.xtend through a partial 
opening towards the mountain. Thinking it might possibly lead 
to some human habitation, or at least to some place preferable to 
the open forest for rest and shelter till the return of daylight, she 
resolved to follow it. As she proceeded on, she began to detect 
marks of the woodman’s or hunter’s axe in the trees, here en¬ 
tirely cut down, and there girdled, or denuded of their bark as 
high as the hand could reach. These indications of the former 
presence of men appeared to grow more frequent as she went 
Dn ; and at length she came out into a small opening in the forest, 

VOL. II. 8 


86 


THE RAI'^GERS, 


in the midst of which stood a roughly-constructed log-house, or 
shanty, with a regularly-formed bark roof still standing. The 
remains of smaller and less durable shanties were also visible in 
the vicinity of the former.* 

With a cautious and hesitating step, Miss Haviland drew 
near to this rude structure, and at once perceived, by the appear¬ 
ance of the unguarded loop-hole window, and the open entrance, 
before which the untrodden wild weeds were growing, that it 
was untenanted. Approaching still nearer, and peering into the 
window, she discovered, in one corner of the deserted apartment, 
a comfortable-looking bed, composed of branches of the hem¬ 
lock, which she rightly concluded had been collected and used 
by hunters, who occasionally made the -place their quarters for 
the night. Immediately concluding to avail herself of the ad¬ 
vantages which this shelter and primitive couch seemed to promise 
for obtaining the rest her exhausted system so much needed, she 
entered, and, throwing herself down on the soft and yielding 
boughs, soon surrendered herself to the influence of the grateful 
repose, and fell asleep. She was soon, however, awakened — 
by what she knew not, unless by the feeling of uneasiness and 
apprehension, by which she now found herself unaccountably 
agitated. She had heard, or read, of those mysterious intimations, 
by which, it is said, we sometimes instinctively become apprised 
of impending danger, when there is no apparent cause for ap¬ 
prehension, and when reason utters no warning. If such in¬ 
stances ever in reality occurred, this might be one of them ; or 
the impression might have been unconsciously received from 
actual sounds, which came from foes now secretly lurking near, 
and which, as it is known often to be the case, had fallen on her 
slumbering ear, and disturbed and troubled, without fully awak¬ 
ening her. But whatever the cause of the strange foreboding, 
the effect soon became too strong and exciting to permit her 
longer to remain passive. And she arose to examine the apart¬ 
ment, and see what precautions could be taken to render it more 
safe against the intrusion of enemies, whether they should come 
in the shape of men or wild beasts. On approaching the en¬ 
trance, she discovered, standing by the side of it against the wall, 


* Colonel Hawks, while traversing the wilderness of Vermont, in the 
French wars, with a regular force, among whom wns the then Captain John 
Stark, once encamped near the foot of the mountain, in the south part of 
Cavendish, where the incident w'e are narrating is supposed to have oc¬ 
curred. The mountain still bears the name of Hawks’s Mountain, and the 
traces of the encampment, it is said, are still visible. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


87 


a sort of rough door made of long cuts of thick bark^ confined 
by withes to two cross-pieces, and intended, evidently, as there 
were no contrivances for hanging it, to be set up against the 
entrance on the inside as a barrier against the cold, or the un¬ 
welcome intrusion of any thing from witliout. But it had become 
so water-soaked and heavy, and the end on which it stood so 
firmly set in the ground, that she found, on making the attempt, 
her strength unequal to the task of removing it. And she turned 
away to look for other means of protecting herself from danger. 
Casting her eyes upward, she perceived, lying loose on the 
beams, or rather poles, extending across the room above, several 
long pieces of bark, which had been left there, probably, when 
the roof, of the same material, was constructed. And it immedi¬ 
ately occurred to her, that, if she could mount this loft, she might 
so dispose of herself there as to escape the observation of any 
human intruders, and, at the same time, be out of reach of any 
wild beasts that should enter the room below. Accordingly, 
going to one corner, she began to mount by stepping on the pro¬ 
jecting sides of the logs in the two converging walls, and soon 
succeeded in reaching the loft, and forming, from the bark, a 
piece of flooring sufficiently strong and broad to bear her weight 
and screen her person from observation. Upon this she extended 
herself, face downwards, with her eyes placed to a small aperture, 
to enable her to see what might happen in the room below, and 
silently, but with highly excited expectation, awaited the event. 
But what event did she expect ? She could not tell ; and yet 
she was wholly unable to divest herself of the continually in¬ 
truding idea that something fearful was about to occur ; and 
impelled by the singular apprehension, she could not help listen¬ 
ing for sounds which might herald the approaching evil. For 
some time, however, no sounds reached her ears, except those 
low, mingled murmurs which are peculiar to the forest in the 
stillness of night. But at length her quickened organs were 
greeted by some noise which she knew was not a fancied one ; 
and the next moment the sound of human footsteps became dis¬ 
tinctly audible. Presently she heard voices at the door, and then 
saw two dark forms cautiously entering the room below. After 
walking around the apartment and thrusting the muzzles of their 
guns into corners, with the apparent purpose of ascertaining wliether 
any one was concealed within, they approached the pile of boughs 
before described, and gave vent to their satisfaction at finding so 
good a bed, in a short, guttural ugh ! which proclaimed them, 
to the trembling listener above, to be Indians, and of those. 


88 


TKi: RANGERS, 


doubtless, who had been sent out in pursuit of her. They then 
proceeded to draw up the old door and barricade the entrance, 
after which they set their guns against the wall, and camped 
down on the bed in the corner. 

It would be difficult to describe the sensations with which the 
hapless girl witnessed what had occurred ; and these, with the 
fear of what might still be in store for her, nearly filled the 
measure of her distress and perplexity; for although she had 
thus far escaped observation, and although she soon had the 
satisfaction of knowing, by the heavy and measured breathing 
which reached her ears, that her foes had sunk into a deep sleep, 
yet how was she, even now, to avoid falling into their merciless 
hands ? Should she attempt to descend and escape through the 
window, could she effect her purpose without being heard and 
detected ? She feared not. And should she remain in her 
present situation till daylight, would her terrible visitors then 
awaken and depart without discovering her ? This alternative 
appeared to her even less promising than the other. And yet 
one of the two courses must be adopted. Which should it be ? 
While anxiously reflecting on the subject, fresh noises in the 
woods arrested her attention. These were also the sounds of 
footsteps, but evidently not those of any human prowler. With 
a light, quick pat, pat, pat, the animal came up to the door, 
paused, and snuffed the air through the crevices. He then 
moved along to the window, reared himself on his hind legs^ 
thrust in his nose, and after giving two or three quick, eager 
snuffs there also, withdrew, and trotted off, at a moderate pace, 
a short distance into the forest, where he appeared to come to a 
sudden halt. The next moment, the long, unearthly howl of a 
wolf rose shrill and tremulous from the spot, and died slowly away, 
in strange, wild cadences, among the echoing mountains around. 
Sabrey instinctively shuddered at the fearful sound, but instantly 
turned her attention to the sleeping Indians, whom she expected 
to hear rousing up and rushing out with their guns after the in¬ 
sidious prowler. But they, to her surprise, snored on, uncon¬ 
scious of the danger. The howl was soon repeated, when short, 
faint responses, in the same shrill, savage modulations, became 
audible in every direction in the surrounding forest. These an¬ 
swering cries, growing more distinct and loud every moment, in 
their evident approach to the spot where the first signal howl 
was given, now fully apprised the agitated listener of the fearful 
character of the scene which was likely soon to occur beneath 
or around her. In an incredibly short space of time, the gather. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


89 


ing troop of famished monsters seemed to be arriving and ar¬ 
ranging themselves under their invoking leader, to be led on to 
the promised prey. And soon the trampling of multitudinous 
feet evinced that they were in motion and cautiously advancing 
towards the house. • The next moment, they all appeared to have 
assembled under the window, and paused, as if to plan the mode 
of attack. After a brief interval, in which no sounds could be 
distinguished but the low, suppressed snuffing of the troop for 
the scented prey, a large wolf leaped up into the narrow aperture, 
paused a second, and then quickly thrusting his balanced body for¬ 
ward, dropped noiselessly down on the ground floor within. Another, 
and another, and another, followed in rapid succession, till more 
than half a score of the gaunt, grim monsters had landed inside, 
and silently arranged themselves in a row before the bed of their 
intended victims, who still strangely slept on. One more fearful 
pause succeeded, in which the greedy band seemed to be eagerly 
eyeing the fated sleepers, and marking out portions of their 
bodies for the deadly gripe ; when suddenly springing forward, 
they all fiercely pounced upon the victims, and, with the seeming 
noise of a thousand wrangling fiends, mingled with the sharp, 
short, half-stifled screeches of human agony, that were heard in 
the hideous din, seized, throttled, and tore them, limb from limb, 
to pieces, and bore off the dissevered parts, munching and 
snarling, to different corners of the room. The noise now for a 
short time subsided, and nothing was heard but the low, broken 
growls of the cannibal troop, as they busily craunched the bones, 
and tore the flesh on which they were leaking their horrid feast. 
Then followed the fierce and noisy encounters for the decreasing 
fragments, till none were left worth contending for. 

At this juncture, two of the half-glutted but still ravenous 
gang, relinquishing the well-picked bones on which they had been 
laboring, rose, and, advancing into the middle of the room, stood 
a moment listlessly viewing the operations of the rest; when they 
suddenly started, and, turning slowly round and round, began 
busily to snuff the air, and throw their noses upward in search 
of some fresh game that appeared now to have struck their keen 
olfactories. The affrighted maiden, who had been witnessing 
this hideous scene from her hitherto unsuspected concealment 
above, with blood curdling in horror at the sights and sounds that 
reached her recoiling senses, now shuddered in fresh alarm ; for 
she but too well understood what this new and fearfully-significant 
movement of the wolves portended. And, instinctively with¬ 
drawing her face from her loop-hole of observation, she hastily 
8 * 


90 


THE RANGERS, 


drew herself up in the middle of her frail support, so as to be a| 
far as possible out of the reach of her expected assailants. Bu 
they at once detected the slight sounds occasioned by her move¬ 
ment, and, now guided by two senses instead of one, instantly 
began to gnash their teeth, and, with wild howls, to leap upward’ 
after their newly-discovered prey. And although her position 
was more than seven feet from the ground, — a height which, it 
might be supposed, could not have been reached by this class of an¬ 
imals in a perpendicular leap,—yet so desperate had the present 
gang become by the taste of human blood, that they soon, in their 
determined and constantly-repeated efforts, began to strike and 
seize the beams with their teeth, by which they would hang sus¬ 
pended a moment, and then drop back again to the ground fc» 
another trial. The terrified maiden now gave herself up as los' 
and tried to quell the tumult of her frenzied feelings, that sh« 
might meet her approaching fate, as dreadful as it was, with 
calmness and resignation. But the terrific noise of her maddened 
assailants, as they leaped up, snapping, snarling, and howling, in 
demoniac chorus, and made nearer and nearer approaches every 
moment to her person, once more aroused her natural instinct for 
self-preservation; and she arose, and, standing upon her feet, 
involuntarily bent over one end of her support to catch a view 
of what was passing below. 

In withdrawing her shrinking gaze from the fiercely upheaving 
heads and fiery eyeballs which there greeted her, she espied the 
guns of the Indians still standing against the wall, almost directly 
beneath her, with the muzzles extending upward within the reach 
of her arm. With the rapid process of thought which danger is 
known often to beget, a new plan of deliverance, suggested by 
the discovery just made, was instantly formed and digested in 
her mind. And in its pursuance, she drew a white handkerchief 
from her pocket, and, hastily folding it together, threw it down to 
the farthest corner of the room below. As she had anticipated, 
the whole gang rushed after it. And instantly seizing the oppor¬ 
tunity thus afforded to execute her design, she hastily balanced 
herself on the edge of the bark the most nearly over the guns, 
reached down her arm, grasped one of the muzzles, and drew 
up the heavy weapon, just in time to escape the baffled brutes as 
they came bounding back, with redoubled howls of rage and dis¬ 
appointment, to the spot. Too much accustomed, in the new 
settlement In which she had been mostly reared, to the sight and 
even handling of fire-arms not to know how to use them, she 
cocked the piece, and, again advancing to the edge of her pla 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


91 


form, pointed down into the thickest of the infuriated pack, and 
fired. One wdld, piercing yelp followed the deafening explosion; 
and, the next instant, all the survivors of the hushed and fright¬ 
ened gang were heard scrambling through the window, and scat¬ 
tering and fleeing off with desperate speed into the surrounding 
forest. With the last sounds of the retreating steps of the wolves, 
and with the relief which a returning sense of safety brought to 
the over-wrought feelings of the maiden, all her strength gave 
way, and, sinking down, weak and helpless as an infant, she 
sobbed out, in the broken murmurs of an overflowing heart, her 
gratitude to Heaven for her deliverance from the horrid death 
from which she had so narrowly escaped. For a while she could 
only tremble and weep; but at length the violence of her ertio- 
tions began gradually, to subside, exhausted nature would be 
cheated no longer, and she sunk into slumber, too sound, happily, 
to permit her to dream over the fearful scenes of the past. 

When she awoke, it was broad daylight, and all was quiet within, 
while without the birds were chanting their morning melodies. 
At first she could scarcely believe that the scene she had passed 
through was not the distempered imaginings of some frightful dream. 
But there, on the blood-stained floor beneath her, lay the carcass 
of a dead wolf, and the scattered bones of the slain Indians, to 
attest the dreadful reality. Hastening down from the loft into 
the room, and averting her eyes from the revolting spectacle, she 
hurried forward^ with a shudder to the door, eflected an opening 
suflicient for her egress, and rushed out into the open air, of 
which she now drew a long, grateful inhalation, more expressive 
than w'ords of the deep sense of inward pleasure she experienced 
in being freed from this den of horrors. 

Believing that, by the advantages daylight would now aflbrd 
her, she might be able to retrace her way to the road, she imme¬ 
diately sought out and entered the old path by which she had 
approached the cabin; and this serving to indicate the general 
course she must pursue to accomplish her purpose, she followed 
it back to the end, and then passed on through the forest in the 
same direction. She had proceeded but a short distance, how¬ 
ever, before she was startled by the unexpected appearance of a 
man advancing through the thick intervening undergrowth directly 
towards her. As she was about to strike out obliquely into the 
forest to avoid him, her steps were arrested by his voice calling 
out to her. 

“ Don’t be alarmed at a friend, young lady,” he said, in a plau¬ 
sible manner, as he came forward and stopped at a respectful 


92 


THE RANUEKS, 


distance' — don’t be alarmed at my appearance, at all; for you are 
the one, I take it, that we are searching for. It is Miss Haviland, 
is it not ? ’* 

“ Yes, sj.r,” replied the latter, looking doubtfully at the man, 
whom she thought she had somewhere before seen — “ yes, that 
is my name ; but as there may be both friends and foes out in 
search of me, you will excpse me for saying that I do not know 
to which of these you belong.” 

“ True, true,” said the other, in a wheedling tone — “ true ; I 
don’t blame you for being a little cautious. So I must tell you 
that, living in these parts, and being acquainted with Captain 
Woodburn, I volunteered, when I heard you were lost last night, 
to go with the rest in search of you. And being now so lucky 
as to find you, I will conduct you out to Coffin’s — four or five 
miles from this, I suppose — where your friends are anxiously 
waiting to see or get word of you.” 

Although our heroine was not exactly pleased with the manner 
and countenance of the man, yet the charm of the name of 
Woodburn, to whom he had so artfully referred, restored her 
confidence, and she at once and thankfully accepted of his prof¬ 
fered guidance, little suspecting that she had yielded herself to 
the most subtle of her foes — the deceitful and treacherous David 
Redding! 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


93 


CHAPTER VIII. 


“ Then inarched the brave from rocky steep, 
From mountain river, swift and cold. 
The borders of the stormy deep, 

The vales where gathered waters sleep, 
Sent up the strong and bold.” — Bryant 


The bold and decisive measures of the Council of Safety had 
by this time begun to manifest themselves in results little antici¬ 
pated by the adherents of the royal cause in Vermont. The 
latter, emboldened both by the presence of a powerful British 
army on their borders, and the doubts and difficulties which, for 
a while, were known to have embarrassed and rendered ineffectual 
the deliberations of their opponents, had become so assured and 
confident of an easy conquest, that in some sections they pro¬ 
ceeded openly in the work of enlistment, and in others pushed 
forward their parties into the very heart of the interior, before 
perceiving their error ; while, by their representations at head¬ 
quarters, they completely deceived Burgoyne and his advisers 
respecting the true state of feeling that animated the bosoms of 
the great mass of the people — a fact made abundantly evident, 
not only by the subsequent confessions of that general, but by all 
his operations at the time, and especially that of the short-sighted 
expedition, which we have before shown him to have planned and 
set afoot, under Peters, to the Connecticut River. It was no won¬ 
der, therefore, that when they now suddenly discovered the whole ' 
state in motion — armed men springing up in every glen, nook, 
and corner of the Green Mountains, and concentrating to join 
another no less unexpected, and no less formidable force, which 
was understood to be rapidly advancing from New Hampshire — 
it was no wonder they were taken wholly by surprise, and slunk 
silently away to their retreats, or immediately fled to the British 
army, whom they still neglected to undeceive. 

It was about one week subsequent to the events last recited ; 
and the interim had been marked with little, as far as immediately 
concerned the action of our story, and those of its personages to 
whom we must now return — with very little to which pen can do 
mstice, except what the reader’s imagination probably has already 
anticipated ; for though thrilling events may be described with a 




94 


THE RANGERS, 


good degree of adequacy, there are yet certain states of high- 
wrought feeling that language can never but feebly portray. The 
search for the lost maiden, on the eventful night of her capture 
and escape, had been, as the reader will have inferred, as vain 
and fruitless as it was agonizing to her lover, and anxious to all. 
The renewal of the search next day, till afternoon, had been no 
better rewarded. More force having then arrived, the tory encamp¬ 
ment was assailed, but found empty of occupants, who had, some 
hours before, scattered and fled. Still unwilling to relinquish his 
object, Woodburn, with a small party of his friends, continued his 
efforts in wider ranges through the forest, which, on the third 
morning, brought him to the cabin in which her most fearful 
trials had occurred ; when the dead wolf, the remnants of the 
slain Indians, not yet wholly carried off by the foxes or returning 
wolves, the guns, the torn and blood-stained earth, and, above all, 
the white shreds of some part of female apparel, discolored and 
scattered round the room, told a tale, that, in spite of the entrea¬ 
ties of his sympathizing friends, who deemed the evidence not 
yet wholly conclusive, drove the appalled lover, in a frenzy of 
grief and horror, from the dreadful scene. 

It was about a week, as we have said, after that night of adven¬ 
ture and excitement. Three companies of the newly-enlisted 
regiment of Rangers, embracing all the recruits yet raised on the 
east side of the mountains, were paraded in the road before Cof¬ 
fin’s tavern, while their officers were standing listless on the grass 
in front, and occasionally throwing inquiring glances along the 
road to the east, as if awaiting some expected arrival from that 
quarter. At length Woodburn, on whose brow rested an air of 
gloomy sternness, advanced, and calling his sergeant and scout¬ 
master, Dunning, to his side, in a low tone, imparted to him some 
private order or suggestion ; when the latter, beckoning from the 
ranks his and the reader’s old acquaintance, Bill Piper, who was 
also a subaltern in the same company, the two laid aside their 
guns and equipments, and proceeded leisurely down the road, the 
way in which the attention of all seemed directed. After pro¬ 
ceeding about a quarter of a mile, they came to a turn in the 
road, which, now becoming invisible from the tavern, led down a 
long hill, and entered an extended piece of woods nearly another 
quarter of a mile distant. 

“ Well,” said Dunning, here pausing and casting his eyes for¬ 
ward to the woods, “ they der don’t seem to make their appear¬ 
ance yet. I ditter think they must have halted there by the brook 
to drink and rest a little; so we will stop at this point, where we 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 95 

can se) both ways ; and when the troops begin to show them- 
eelves, we’ll then give the signal.” 

With this, they threw themselves down in the cool shade of a 
tree by the way side, and, for a while, yielded themselves to that 
listless, dreamy mood, which reclining in the shade, after exer¬ 
cise, on a warm day, almost invariably induces. 

“ Dunning,” said Piper, at length rousing up a little, and draw¬ 
ing from his pocket a well-filled leathern purse, which he care¬ 
lessly chinked against his upraised knee, by way of preliminary 
— “ Dunning, it is a mystery to me where all this stuff comes 
from. Six weeks ago, it was thought there .were scarcely a thou¬ 
sand hard dollars, except what was in tory families, in all the 
Grants. Now, there must be well on to that sum even in our own 
company, every recruit having been paid his bounty and month’s 
advance pay, in silver or gold, on the spot. Where does it come 
from } ” 

“ From the sales of the der tory estates, of which they have 
been making a clean sweep, you know,” replied the other. 

“ Yes, yes, we all know that, I suppose ; but where do the pur¬ 
chasers of these estates get the money to buy with.^^” rejoined 
the former. 

“ I never ditter catechized them about it,” said the hunter, 
evasively. 

Nor I,” remarked Piper ; “ but I have lately heard a curious 
story about the matter. They say there has been a sort of home¬ 
spun-looking old fellow, that nobody seems to know, following the 
commissioners of sales round, from place to place, with an old 
horse and cart, seemingly loaded with wooden ware, or some such 
kind of gear, for peddling ; and that he has bid off a great part 
of all the farms, and stock on them, which have been sold, pay¬ 
ing down for them on the spot in hard money, which they say he 
carries about with him tied up in old stockings, and hid away in 
his load of trumpery. Some mistrust he is a Jew ; and some are 
afraid he is a British agent, not only buying up farms, but also the 
Council of Safety, who are also strangely full of money these 
days.” 

“ That last would prove a rather ditter tough bargain for him 
and his masters, I reckon,” responded the hunter, dryly. 

“ Yes, that is all nonsense, no doubt,” observed Piper. “ But 
still it is a mystery to my mind, how money, that a short time 
ago was so scarce, should now all at once be so plenty ; and that 
was the reason I raised the question before you, who generally 
know pretty near what is going on among our head men, and 
who, I thought likely, could easily explain this secret.” 



96 


THE RANGERS, 


“ No,” said the other; “ no. Bill ; there might be der trouble 
about that. When a state secret falls into my ears, it is not so 
easy to get it out of my mouth. I’ve got an impediment in my 
ditter speech, you know,” he added, \vith a slight twinkle of the 
eye. 

“ Your mouth goes off well enough on some public matters, I 
find,” remarked Piper, with an air fluctuating between a miff and 
a laugh. 

“ Der yes, to say, for instance, that the decree to confiscate 
and sell the tory estates was a ditter righteous one — has worked 
■like a charm — called out the rusty dollars from their hiding- 
places thick as der bumblebees in June — ditter drove off the blue 
devils from among the people, and raised a regiment of men in 
less than three weeks ! ” 

“ Ah ! and a fine regiment, too, it will be. 1 long to see it all 
brought together, for I don’t know a tenth of them— men or offi¬ 
cers — not even our colonel.” 

“ Herrick > Well, I can’t der quite say I should know him 
now ; but he is a ditter go-ahead fellow, who loves the smell of 
gunpowder nearly as well as Seth Warner himself, whose pupil 
he is in the trade. We shall have the pleasure of seeing him in a 
few minutes, probably, as Coffin told me he passed along here night 
before last, on the way to Number Four, to come on with Stark. 
That may be told without ditter mischief.” 

And so may another thing, perhaps, which I should like 
know, Dunning.” 

“ Der what is that. Bill ? ” 

“ Why, you know that Bart, the night after we discovered the 
place where we supposed the girl was destroyed, disappeared, and 
has not been here since. Where have they sent him, and what 
after.? ” 

“ Piper, you are as brave as a lion, and as strong as a horse, 
der doubtless ; but your tongue may ditter need training, for all 
that. Still, as you mean right, and will probably learn to bridle 
that unruly member only by practice, I will, for once, put you to 
the trial. Bart has gone a spy to the British camp. Though 
Harry, in his despair, would for a while believe nothing but that 
she was der dead, or worse, yet, as I and others, putting all 
things together, hoped and reasoned ditter different, in part, and 
thought she might not have been killed there, but retaken ; and, 
for fear of pursuit, hurried off directly to the British, he concluded 
to despatch Bart to his friend Allen, of the Council, to take ad¬ 
vice, and then proceed,, in some disguise or other, right into the 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


97 


lion’s den — ascertain whether the girl was there — and, after 
ditter learning what he could about the enemy’s movements, return 
with the news.” 

“■ Well, I’ll be chunked if the project wan’t a bold one ! ..But 
if any creature on earth can carry it out, it is Bart; and he will, 
unless they get word from this quarter that such a fellow is among 
them. ^ Ah ! I now see the need of a close mouth on the subject, 
and will keep one, thanking you kindly, Dunning, for your cau¬ 
tion and confidence.” 

“ It will be all right, I presume. Bill, now you perceive Bart’s 
neck may depend on your ditter discretion. But who have we 
there ? ” added the speaker, pointing down the road towards the 
woods. 

While Dunning and Piper were thus engrossed in conversation, 
two men, on foot, had emerged from the woods and approached 
within a hundred yards, before attracting the attention of the for¬ 
mer. They were without coats, or in their shirt sleeves, as, in 
common parlance, is the phrase for such undress ; and, having 
handkerchiefs tied round their heads, and carrying in their 
hands rough sticks, picked up by the way-side, for canes, they pre¬ 
sented an appearance, as they leisurely came along up the 
ascending road, with occasional glances back towards the woods, 
that left Dunning and his companion wholly in doubt, while 
attempting to decide who or what they were. 

“ Now, who knows,” said the wary hunter, “ but they may be 
der tory spies, hanging round the skirts of Stark’s army, and 
intending soon to be off cross-lots to the British, to report his prog- 
-ress. I’ll ditter banter them a little, at all hazards, before we 
let ’em pass.” 

But as the strangers drew near, their appearance grew less and 
less like that of the ordinary footpads for whom they had been 
taken ; and there was something in their bearing which consider 
ably shook, though it did not wholly alter, the hunter’s intention 
to banter them. One was a strongly-built, broad-chested man, 
with a high head, hardy brown features, and a countenance be¬ 
tokening much cool energy and decision of character. The other 
was rather less stocky, and slightly taller, of quicker motions, but 
withal a prompt, resolute-looking person. 

“ Well, my friends,” said the former, coming up and pausing 
before the expectant Rangers, with an air that seemed to challenge 
conversation, “ this is Coffin’s tavern here ahead, I suppose. Will 
the captain be pleased, think ye, to see a little company about 
this time ? ” 

VOL. II. 


9 


98 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Der yes,” replied Dunning, eyeing the speaker with a curi¬ 
ous, hall' doubtful and half quizzing expression. “ Yes, if of the 
right sort, he wont ditter cry, I reckon. But the captain is some¬ 
times rather particular — for instance, if you should happen to 
be tories-” 

“ Tories ! — do we look like tories .? ” demanded the former, 
glancing to his companion with a droll, surprised look. 

“ Why der no,” replied the hunter, a little abashed, “ I ditter 
think not.” 

“ Well, I had hoped not,” rejoined the man. “ But who are 
you, my friend — one of the Green Mountain Boys, that we hear 
BO much about ? ” 

“Not far from the mark, sergeant, or commissary, or whatever 
is your ditter title ; for you belong to the army that’s at hand, I 
take it ? ” said Dunning. 

“ O, yes,” briskly returned the other, again looking at his com¬ 
panion, and joining him in a merry laugh. “ Yes, I am one of 
them, and mean to have a hand in stirring up Burgoyne, when 
we reach him, 1 assure you.” . 

“ That’s right, commissary ! ” exclaimed Dunning. “ You are 
a der chap of some pluck. Til warrant it. I begin to ditter like 
you. W^hat shall I call your name, friend ? ” 

“ My name is John Stark, if you will allow,” replied the stran¬ 
ger, with an amused look. 

“ John Stark ? Why, that’s your der general’s name ! ” said 
the hunter, incredulously. “ Come, come, friend, you are ditter 
gumming me. I have seen John Stark — Captain Stark, that was 
then — now general — the same that was bought back by our 
folks for a white pony — ditter dog cheap, too, as the British 
will find, before he is der done with them, or I mistake the 
amount of fight that’s in the critter, amazingly.” * 

“ Thank you, sir ! ” heartily exclaimed the former, now evi¬ 
dently as much gratified as amused at what he heard. “ In be¬ 
half of that same John Stark, I thank you, sir, for your good 
opinion of him. But where, my good fellow,” he continued, with 


* When General Stark was exposed for sale in Montreal, by the In¬ 
dians, by whom he had been captured in the French war, and some of 
his countrymen were trying in vain to make his savage master set a price 
on him, an English gentleman happened to ride by on a handsome white 
pony, which so greatly struck the Indian’s fancy, that, pointing after the 
coveted animal, he exclaimed, “ Ah ! ugh ! me take that you get him.” 
Wliereupon the gentleman was followed, the pony purchased, and, with 
it, the captive Stark redeemed. 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


99 


a look of lively interest, “ where did you ever fall in with Captain 
Stark ^ 

“ Why, in the old war, when he der marched through here with 
Colonel Hawk, I ditter acted as the colonel’s guide over the 
mountains to Otter Creek. Stark, as I’ve said, was one of the 
captains, though I wasn’t much with him, to be sure,” replied the 
hunter, becoming more doubtful and puzzled every moment, 
the turn matters were taking. 

“ Ah ! yes, yes, — our hunter guide on that rough march ! ^ 

remember now. Well, well, the fault is not wholly on one sidr 
after all! ” said the other, musingly. 

“Der — der—ditter how.? der — ditter — ” began Dunning 
opening his eyes with an uneasy stare. 

“ This is General Stark, my boys,” here quickly interposed the 
other gentleman. “ I see by your badges that you belong to the 
Rangers. I am your colonel, Herrick, and this the general him¬ 
self, who, by way of relief from a long ride in the saddle, threw 
off his uniform, like myself, down in the woods yonder, and 
walked on, while the troops were halting to refresh a moment, and 
recover from the effects of their march in this scalding heat, be¬ 
fore they made their appearance at your rendezvous. They will 
now be on the move shortly.” 

“ Der — der— ditter— ” cried the confused hunter, rising hur¬ 
riedly to his feet, and lifting his cap, in a tremor of respectful 
deprecation, before the general, while his tongue began to trip 
and fly in the vain attempt to get out an apology — “ der — der 
— ditter — ditter — ditter — ” 

“ Never mind, my brave fellow ! ” exclaimed Stark, with a 
hearty slap on the other’s shoulder; “ never mind a mistake so 
naturally growing out of our unmilitary guise. No offence, even 
had your remarks been less pleasant. But you, sir ! — why, you 
have paid me the greatest compliment I ever had in my life! ” 

“ No — no offence whatever to either of us,” added Herrick. 
“But.yonder come the columns of our friends and helpers from 
New Hampshire. If you are here to give notice of their approach, 
as I suppose, make the signal, and back to your post. And here, 
general,” he continued, pointing to two fine-looking and gayly ca¬ 
parisoned horses, now led up by waiters, with the coats, swords, 
sashes, and great military cocked hats of the denuded officers 
swinging on their arms — “here, general, come our horses and 
uniforms. Let us rig up before a worse mistake shall befall us.” 

With a curious mixture of chagrin and gratificatx)n at what had 
just occurred, the two Rangers now made the appointed signal, and 


100 


THE RANGERS, 


hurried back to join their companions in arms at the tavern. And 
in a few minutes, the fine little brigade of the nardy and resolutt 
New Hampshire Boys, headed by their intrepid leader, no^^ 
equipped in imposing regimentals, and mounted on his curvetting 
charger, came pouring along the plain in all the pomp of martial 
array, and were received by the customary military salutes, anO 
the reiterated cheers of their congenial welcomers of the Greer 
Mountains. 

The hour that succeeded was a bustling and a joyous one 
The greetings, the introductions, the mutual compliments for deedi 
done at Ticonderoga and Bunker Hill, and the merry jokes given 
and taken, as the mingling forces partook of the good cheer pre¬ 
pared for the whole at the expense of the public or patriotic indi¬ 
viduals, together with the strong community of feeling that agi¬ 
tated their bosoms in view of a common object to be accom¬ 
plished, and common dangers to be encountered, — all combined 
to render the scene one of-no ordinary interest and animation. At 
length, the drums of the different companies began to beat to arms, 
and the soldiers were seen gathering at their respective stands, pre¬ 
paratory to the march of the combined forces across the mountains. 

At this juncture, a single horseman came galloping along the 
road from the west; and, the next moment, Ira Allen, the active 
and untiring secretary of the Council of Safety, with a counte¬ 
nance betokening good or exciting news, rode up to the door, 
and, throwing himself from the saddle, turned to receive the 
greetings of his acquaintances gathering round him. With a sig¬ 
nificant look and gesture to Woodburn to follow, he led the way 
to an unoccupied room, at length found in the crowded tavern. 

‘‘ What news do you bring, Mr. Allen ” said Woodburn, with 
an effort at calmness, as soon as the two were by themselves. 

“ That which will scatter the blackest part of that cloud on 
your brow, I trust, my dear fellow,” replied Allen, with an ani¬ 
mated and exulting air. “ Here, look at this ! ” he added, pulling 
out and presenting a small and closely-folded letter. 

With trembling eagerness, Woodburn seized the missive, and, 
with a glance at the well-known hand of the superscription, “To 
Captain Woodburn, or Mr. Allen, of the Council,” opened it, and 
read as follows : — 

“ I am at the British head-quarters — not exactly a prisoner, 
but evidently a closely-watched personage, having reached here 
with my captors, after a forced and fatiguing journey, which 
aowever, was not made unpleasant by any disrespectful treat 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


101 


ment. Although the party, to whom I became a prisoner, have 
been frightened back or recalled, and the expedition, of which 
they were the advance, given up, yet I think it my duty to^say, 
that another, and much more formidable one, is in agitation ag'ainst 
Bennington. 1 hope our aeople will be prepared for it, and 
show these haughty Britons that they do not deserve the name of 
the undisciplined rabble of poltroons and cowards by which I here 
daily hear them branded. S. H.” 

We will not attempt to describe the emotions of Woodburn on 
the occasion. But the letter disclosed that which involved more 
momentous interests than those merely that concerned the indi¬ 
vidual feelings of a lover. And it was soon concluded to lay it 
before General Stark, who, with Colonel Herrick, was then called 
in, the letter shown, and all the attending circumstances, past and 
present, so far as concerned the public to know, fully explained. 

Mean while the troops were drawn up, in marching order, be¬ 
fore the tavern, and stood wondering why their general did not 
appear, or, at least, give order for the column to move onward. 

At length, however, the long expected leader, attended by 
those with whom he had been in consultation, made his appear¬ 
ance at the door, and ordered the horses of those who were to 
travel mounted to be led forward. . 

“ There’s something more than common on John Stark’s mind,” 
whispered a tall New Hampshire Boy, to his fellow in the ranks. 
“ See how his eyes snao I I am an old neighbor of his, you know, 
and can read him like a book. I shouldn’t be surprised if we 
heard from him soon; for he an’t one of those that like to keep 
chawing on a thing that makes him feel, but wants to out with it, 
and alwa,ys will, unless he has good reason for a close mouth. 
Yes, I’ll bet a goose we hear from him before we start.” 

The speaker had conjectured rightly. Stark was heard to say 
to Allen,— 

“ Mount and ride along against the centre there, sir, where you 
can best be heard. We must have it; for, besides preparing 
their minds for what they probably must soon meet, it will make 
a battle cry for your boys and mine as potent, for aught we can 
tell, as was the name of Joan of Arc among the Frenchmen. 

The ofhcers, with Allen, then sprung into their saddles ; and as 
the latter reached his allotted post, and faced round to the lines, 
the general commanded attention, and added, — 

“ My men, let me introduce you to Mr. Allen, the patriotic 
secretaiy of tlie Vermont Council of Safety, and say that I hold 
9* 


102 


THE RANGERS, 


myself voucher for the truth of what he shall tell you. Listen to 
his communication.” 

The secretary, now bowing respectfully to the attentive and 
already prepossessed ranks before him, began by saying that 
among the recreant few of any note in the Green Mountains, who 
had basely deserted their country and joined the enemy, there 
was one who had a daughter of whom he was wholly unworthy. 
The speaker then proceeded to relate Miss Haviland’s noble stand 
for the American cause, from which she was not to be allured or 
driven by all the inducements and menaces held out by a toiy 
father and lover, both of whom had received royal commissions — 
her absolute refusal to go with them, on their late departure for 
the British army, and her more recent capture and abduction, 
while on her way to her friends, by the probable instigation of the 
rejected lover, and with the connivance, perhaps, of the father; all 
of which was concluded by reading the letter just received, it was 
added, by a trusty messenger, who had gone in disguise to the 
enemy’s camp to receive it, and who had now returned to keep 
open the important communication. 

“ Men of New Hampshire ! ” now cried Stark, in a loud, ani¬ 
mated voice, as with flashing eyes he glanced over the throng of 
upturned and excited faces before him, “ is it any wonder the 
Green Mountain Boys are so gallant and brave in fighting foi 
their wives and sweethearts, when such is a specimen ? Will 
you join them in defence of their homes and country, and help 
fulfil this matchless girl’s expectations when we meet that taunt¬ 
ing foe at Bennington, as by God’s favor we Will ? If so, then 
let it now be told in three cheers for the good cause, and as many 
more as you please for The Tory's Daughter ! ” 

The next instant, as the bidden drummers brought tht 4 ir sticks 
to the bounding parchment of their instruments with blows that 
seemingly would have thrown thek arms from their shoulders, a 
thousand men were seen leaping wildly into the air, and giving 
their patriotic response in a round of cheers that rent the ringing 
heavens above, and shook the startled wilderness for miles around 
them. 

“ Order in the ranks ! ” at length broke in the deep, stern voice 
of the general, as the last cheer was dying away. “ Prepare to 
march ! March ! ” 

And the excited troops could scarcely be kept in their places, 
as, with the stirring strains of lively fife and rattling drum, they 
wen! rushing and pouring along on their way to the seat of war. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


103 


CHAPTER IX. 


“ In dreams the haughty Briton bore 
The trophies of a conqueror.” 


The scene of our story changes to the vicinity of the Hudson, 
to which the eyes of millions were now turned as the theatre 
of approaching events, on which hung, perhaps, the great issue 
of the American revolution. Although both parties seemed to 
look upon the matter at stake as one*of immense magnitude, yet 
far different were the views and feelings which, at this time, per¬ 
vaded the two opposing armies. The Britisn, flushed by their 
successes, and confident in that strength before which every op¬ 
posing obstacle had thus far given way, were looking down with 
little other than absolute contempt on the American forces in 
their front, believing them wholly incapable, either from numbers 
Dr courage, of opposing any serious resistance to their march, 
when they chose to move forward. And here thus lay their 
proud and infatuated chief for weeks, dreaming of coronets, 
frittering away the time in feasting with his officers, and indulg- 
ing himself and them in all the follies which characterized their 
gay and licentious camp. On the other hand, the Americans, 
deeply sensible of the consequence of suffering their enemies to 
effect their contemplated junction at Albany, were vigilant, active, 
and determined. Though firmly resolved to dispute the way of 
the invader to the death when they must, they yet preferred, for 
a while, the policy of embarrassing and impeding him, rather 
than openly exposing themselves to his attacks. Whole brigades 
were therefore employed in the work of destroying the bridges, 
blocking up the roads with fallen trees, and putting eveiy possible 
obstruction in the way of his advance, so that his delay, where he 
now lay at Fort Ann, might be protracted till a sufficient force 
could be gathered to meet him with a more reasonable hope of 
success. 

And every hour that hope waxed stronger and stronger. Every 
day brought fresh accessions of strength to their self-devoted 
bands, and every gale wafted to their gladdened ears the sounds 
of the warlike preparations of an aroused and indignant people 




104 


THE RANGERS, 


gathering from afar to the rescue ; and they began to breathe 
more freely while they thought, as with trembling solicitude 
they still did, of the fearful meeting that must now soon fol¬ 
low. 

At the time which we have selected for opening the scene 
that forms the next connecting link in the chain of our tale, 
although the road had been at length opened, and a few detach¬ 
ments thrown forward to the Hudson, the main part of the Brit¬ 
ish army still lay at Fort Ann; where their long lines of tents, 
marked, at intervals, by the colors of the different regiments 
flying from their slender flagstafts, were now seen stretching, 
a city of canvas, over the plain. A little apart from this im¬ 
posing array stood a small number of dwelling-houses of dif¬ 
ferent sizes, irregularly scattered along on both sides of the road 
towards the south, over the largest of which floated the broad 
British flag, proclaiming it the head-quarters of the commander- 
in-chief. The next, in size and cominodiousness, among these 
various structures,— all now occupied by the general officers and 
other favored personages of the army, — was a large, low farm¬ 
house, which the intermingling devices of the British and Han¬ 
overian flags, conspicuously displayed from the roof, den'/ed to 
be the quarters of General Reidesel, suite, and well-known family. 
This last building seemed now to be the principal point of att action. 
Gayly dressed officers and ladies were seen entering the doors, or 
standing inside at the open windows ; while the sounds of the 
familiar greetings, lively sallies, and merry laughter of the as¬ 
sembled and assembling company, sufficiently indicated the con¬ 
vivial character of the scene about to be enacted within. Let us 
enter. Around a long and richly-furnished table, in the principal 
apartment, were just seated those who deemed themselves the 
elite of that boastful army. Its notorious chief, the weak and 
wise, vain-glorious and energetic Burgoyne, occupied the post 
of honor, at the head, and the fair hostess, the amiable, learned, 
and vivacious Countess of Reidesel, the foot of the table : while, 
at the sides, were ranged, according to the - prevailing notions 
of precedence, the variously-ranked individuals composing the 
rest of the company, among whom, with other officers of less 
note, were Generals Reidesel and Frazier, Major Ackland and 
his devoted wife, together with several Americans, including the 
elated Esquire Haviland and his beautiful daughter. The latter, 
who, sorely against her inclinations, had been prevailed on, or 
rather constrained, by her father to attend him to the entertain¬ 
ment, was seated by the side of Lady Ackland, to whom sho 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


105 


seemed shrinkingly to cling as a sort of shield against the free 
glances she was compelled to encounter from the eyes of those 
whom it was there counted treason to repulse. 

The feast proceeded. With the constant bandying of compli¬ 
ment, joke, and repartee,among the merry and self-satisfied lord- 
lings who assumed the right of engrossing the conversation, 
course after course came and passed in rapid succession, till a 
sufficient variety of viands and other substantial esculents had 
been served to warrant the introduction of the lighter delicacies 
of the dessert. But still there seemed to be a saving of appetite, 
a looking for some expected dish that had not yet made its ap¬ 
pearance, on the part of several of the guests, and especially 
on that of the pompous votary of Mars, who had been installed 
master of the ceremonies, and who at length ventured to say, — 

“ I had looked, my lady hostess, to have seen, ere this, among 
your many other delectables, the fulfilment of your ladyship’s 
promise gracing the table, in the shape of the blackbird pie, 
wherewith we were to be regaled, at your entertainment, if your 
polite note of invitation was rightly read and interpreted.” 

“ O, the blackbird pie ! ” replied the countess, with a sprightly 
air and a charming touch of the German brogue. “ I was wait¬ 
ing to be reminded of that; for there is a condition, which 1 wish 
to propose to your excellency, before the promised extra can make 
its appearance.” 

“ Ah ! What is that, my incomparable cateress ? ” asked the 
former. 

“ Why, only that you carve and serve the pie to the company 
yourself, mon general,” archly replied the countess. 

“ A challenge to your chivalry, general, which no true knight 
can refuse to accept,” cried Frazier and others. 

“ I yield me, and accede to the condition,” said Burgoyne, 
gracefully waving his jewelled hand, and joining in the general 
laugh. 

' “ It is well,” said the countess, with a finely-assumed air of 

mock gravity, as she raised her exquisite little table bell, which 
now, under her rapidly-plied fingers, sent its sharp jingle through 
the house. 

The next moment, a liveried servant, whose countenance 
seemed slyly gleaming with some suppressed merriment, was 
seen advancing with a broad, deep dish, tastefully crowned by 
the swelling crust of snow-white pastry, which tightly enclosed 
the supposed contents beneath. 

At a motion of the indicating finger of the hostess, the tempt- 


106 


THE HANGERS, 


ing dish was brought forward, and carefully placed on the table 
before the many-titled carver, amid a shower of compliments to 
the distinguished artificer of so fine an edible structure, from him 
and many others of the admiring company. The general now 
rose, and, intent only on a dexterous performance of the duties 
of his new vocation, gave a preliminary flourish of knife and 
fork, and dashed into the middle of the pie ; when lo ! through 
the rent thus made in the imprisoning crust, out flew half a scoro 
of live blackbirds, which, fluttering up and scattering over the 
dodging heads of the.astonished guests, made for the open win¬ 
dows, and escaped, with loud chirping cries, to their native 
meadows ! At first, a slight exclamation from the gentlemen, a 
half shriek from the ladies, then a momentary pause, and then 
one universal burst of uproarious laughter, followed this strange 
denouement of the little plot of the playful countess. She, it 
appeared, had engaged a fowler to bring her a couple of dozens 
of blackbirds, which, by a net, he had taken, and brought to her 
alive; when, keeping part as they were, she contrived up the 
scheme to amuse and surprise her guests here described, and, 
slaying the rest, made of them a veritable pie, that was now 
brought forward, and partaken, with great gusto, by the delighted 
company. 

At length the cloth was removed, and the table replenished 
with bottles and glasses. Then followed the usual round of 
toasts — “ the health of the king,” — “ the invincibility of British 
arms,” — “success to the present expedition,” — and, with many 
a deriding epithet, “ confusion to the rebels and their ragged army.” 

“ Fill, gentlemen,” said Burgoyne, after the subjects above 
named had been sufficiently exhausted — “ fill up your glasses 
once more ; for, in descanting on the public responsibilities and 
glory of the soldier, let us not be unmindful of those private felici¬ 
ties which are to reward his prowess. I give you,” he added, 
with a significant glance at our heroine — “ I give you, ladies and 
gentlemen, the health and happiness of our two loyal American 
officers. Colonel Peters and Captain Jones, the prospective bride¬ 
grooms of the double wedding of to-morrow, extremely regretting 
that both of the fair participants of the happy occasion, instead of 
one, are not here to give the beautiful response of their blushes to 
the sentiment.” 

As the lively applause with which this toast was received and 
drank was subsiding, the ladies, to the great relief of the aston¬ 
ished and confused Miss Haviland, now rose and retired to 
another apartment. Here, pleading some excuse for an imme- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


107 


diate departure, Sabrey hurried out through a back way, and 
escaped unperceived to her father’s quarters, a small adjoining 
cottage, where she had lodged since his arrival in camp, and 
where she now secluded herself, to endeavor to fathom the- plot 
which the unexpected and unwarranted announcement just indi¬ 
rectly made, together with some other circumstances of recent 
occurrence, plainly told was in progress to insnare her. 

But it may here be necessary, for a clear understanding of 
some things which have preceded and others which may follow, 
to revert briefly to the experience of the luckless maiden since 
placed in her present uncongenial and embarrassing position. 

When Miss Haviland, on the termination of her compulsory 
journey, arrived at the outposts of the British army, she was con¬ 
ducted, by the order of some one evidently apprised of her coming, 
immediately to her father’s quarters. The old gentleman, at the 
somewhat awkward meeting that now took place between them, 
seemed both surprised and gratified at seeing her there ; and 
though his manner betrayed a sort of guilty embarrassment, 
arising, perhaps, from the consciousness of his former harshness 
to her, he yet at once, and pointedly, disclaimed having had any 
agency in her abduction, which he laid to the chances of war ; to 
which, he contended, her perverse and unadvised conduct had 
been the means of exposing her. Peters, also, who soon made 
his appearance, joined in the disclaimer; and tendering some 
empty apologies for what had happened, which, he said, grew 
out of the mistake of a subordinate officer in construing an order 
in relation to taking hostages from the enemy, in certain cases, 
ofTered to convey her back, if she chose it, as soon as found con¬ 
sistent with her safety. The offer, however, was never repeated ; 
and his own conduct very soon belied his assertions, and con¬ 
vinced her of the truth of her suspicions from the first, that he 
was the sole instigator of the outrage she had received, and that 
it was still his purpose to detain her and keep her in a position 
which would enable him the more effectually' to prosecute his 
designs; for although in the few formal calls he continued to 
make at the house, he never pressed his suit, but seemed rather 
to avoid the subject, as if determined to afford her no opportunity 
to repeat her former refusals, she yet quickly perceived that he 
was busy at his intrigues to bring about, by the agency of others, 
and by secret management, what by himself, or by any open 
and honorable means, he despaired of accomplishing. All this, 
from day to day, unfolded itself in the renewed importunities 
Bnd reproaches of her father, the added entreaties of Jones, the 


108 


THE HANGERS, 


lover of Miss McRea, then soon expected in the British camp to 
be married, in the reports which had been put in circulation to 
place her in a false light, — that of a perverse and coquettish 
girl, — in the efforts made to force her into social parties, where 
the opinions of all were obviously forestalled, and especially in 
the contrived introductions she was compelled to undergo to those 
who had evidently been enlisted as intercessors, among whom 
were some whose ambiguous conduct often greatly annoyed, and, 
at times, even filled her bosom with perplexity and alarm. 

Such was the position of the unhappy girl at the time of her 
reluctant attendance as one of the guests of the merry party we 
have described. Although annoyed, sickened, and disgusted at 
what she had daily witnessed, and vexed and indignant at the con¬ 
temptible artifices and intrigues of Peters, which, however in¬ 
tended, were beginning to be the means of exposing her to new 
trials, yet, till what took place at that party, she had entertained no 
serious apprehension that any attempt would be made to coerce 
her into a marriage which she had so decidedly repudiated. 

But the announcement which had just been so strangely made 
coming as it did from so powerful a personage, and one, at the 
same time, whose equivocal behavior, when she had casually met 
him, had excited her deepest aversion, now gave her to under¬ 
stand that such an attempt was indeed about to be made by the 
assumed arbiters of her fate, and that her resistance to the con¬ 
templated scheme, should she be able to make one against the 
overawing influence that was about to be brought to bear upon 
her, and even her acquiescence, she feared, was to be followed by 
persecutions, from the thought of which she shrunk with dismay. 
She might have taken that announcement, perhaps, as a mere 
ruse, as in part it really was, got up to place her in a predicament 
in which most females would yield rather than become the prin¬ 
cipal actor in the scene that would follow further resistance ; or 
she might have viewed the whole as a contemptible fabrication, 
but for a circumstance of that morning’s occurrence. Captain 
Jones had called and apprised her that he was about sending an 
escort to Fort Edward for his betrothed, informed her that the 
next morning was appointed for his wedding, and concluded by 
making his last appeal to induce her to consent to be united to 
Peters at the same time. 

And it was this occurrence, in connection with the former, that 
had so thoroughly alarmed her. 

While pondering on the means and chances of escaping the 
threatened destiny, she perceived from her window that the com- 


OR THE TORV’S DAUGHTER. 


109 


pany at Reiclesel’s had broken up, and were scattering to their 
respective quarters. And presently her father entered her room, 
and after announcing that he had been honored by the com¬ 
mander-in-chief with a mission to Skenesboro’, from which he 
should not be able to return till late at night, presented her a 
sealed billet, and immediately departed. With a trembling hand 
she opened the suspected missive and read,— 

“ Mis.s Haviland will pardon the mistake involved in the senti¬ 
ment delivered at Lady Reidesel’s table. Its author, however, 
cannot but think that the full arrangement which he had supposed 
to have been already settled may still be effected in season. And 
he therefore proposes, if Miss H. will permit, a call for friendly 
intercession, at twilight this evening.” 

With a flushed and flashing countenance the offended maiden 
instantly sprang to her feet, and paced the room several minutes 
in silent agitation. Her naturally mild spirit was at length evident¬ 
ly -aroused for some decided action ; and the manner in which 
it was to be commenced appeared soon to be determined in her 
mind. 

“Ay, and the step, as bold as it may be, shall first be taken,” she 
said, as, preparing to leave the house, her burning thoughts began 
to press for utterance. “Ay, if it will not avail me, in bringing 
aid to escape from this den of iniquity, or protection to remain, 
it shall, at least, serve as a proclamation of villany, which shall 
yet be .heard in every house and hamlet of the American peo¬ 
ple ! ” 

The next moment she was in the street; and, with hurried step, 
making her way to General Rcidesel’s quarters. Instantly seek¬ 
ing a private interview with the readily assenting countess, she 
frankly and without reserve told the whole story of her wrongs, 
and implored assistance in escaping the toils that had been spread 
for her, or, at least, the protecting shield of an influence which 
should enable her to withstand them. And the effect of her 
forceful recital soon showed her that she had not over-estimated 
the discernment and magnanimity of the noble lady she was ad¬ 
dressing. 

“ Well, that is right, my bonny rebel, as they call you ! ” said 
the countess, encouragingly. “And it is the spirit m a woman 
which I like, and which I will have no hand in repressing. Yes, 

I see clearly, now, what I half suspected before —the man who had 
you brought here, where he could more surely noose you, is re¬ 
pugnant even to the misery; and some of those he has been fool 
enough to enlist as intercessors, are still more dreaded- Ah! 

VOL. II. 10 


110 


THE RANGERS, 


wicked, wicked Briton! But, do you know, he is king here , 
and that it is treason to talk, and worse treason to try to thwart 
him ? ” 

“ I have greatly feared so, my lady.” 

“ What, then, do you propose to do, wherein I could befriend 
you ? ” 

“ Leave the army before night.” 

“ Have you a carriage at command, and a protector f ” 

I have, strictly speaking, neither, madam.” 

“ Then how can you go ? ” 

“ On foot, and alone, unless I chance to engage one to attend 
me in the character of a servant.” 

“ You are a brave one, my young lady. But they will be likely 
to detain you at the outposts.” 

“ I had supposed so, and therefore came here with the hope 
that, after you had heard my story, you might be moved to pre¬ 
vail on your husband to give me a pass.” 

“ O girl, girl! No, no, he would not dare to do it, after finding 
out the cause, which he must first know,” exclaimed the lady, in 
a tone of kindly remonstrance. “ He would dare do no such thing. 
But I would, in such a case; indeed I would! And, stay, let 
me see! ” she continued, rising and opening the general’s desk. 
“ Here are several passes which he keeps for occasions of hurry, 
all signed off and ready, except inserting the name of the bearer. 
O, what shall I do.? I am tempted to write your name in one, 
and trust to your honor and shrewdness to shield me, in case of 
your failure, from exposure and blame.” 

“ Will your hand-writing be acknowledged, madam.? ” 

“ O, yes, I don’t hesitate on that account; for I often fill up 
the general’s passes under his direction.” 

“ O, then, dear madam, as I know you would do by a daughter, 
do by me — trust to my discretion, and hesitate no longer.” 

The good-hearted countess soon yielded, and our heroine, with 
tears of gratitude, mutely imprinted a farewell kiss on her cheek, 
and departed with the coveted pass in her pocket. 

When Miss Haviland reached her chamber, she seated herself 
by an open, but partially curtained window, where, unseen her¬ 
self, she could easily note what was passing in the street below, 
to which her attention seemed somewhat anxiously directed. She 
had been but a few minutes at her post of observation, before she 
was apprised, by the hooting of boys, and the gibes and laughter 
of the idling soldiers, with whom the street, at this hour, wa'* 
commonly thronged, that some unusual spectacle was approach 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


Ill 


ing. And peering forward through the folds of the curtains, she 
beheld, amidst a slowly-advancing crowd, a meanly-clad, simple- 
looking country youth, wearing a ragged broad-brim, and mounted ' 
“on an unsightly, donkey-like beast, whose long tail and mane ^ 
were stuck full of briers, and whose hair, lying in every'direc- 
tion, seemed besmeared with mange and dirt; all combining 
to give both horse and rider a most ungainly and poverty-struck > 
appearance. The fellow was trying to peddle apples, which he 
carried in an old pair of panniers swung across his pony’s back, 
and which seemed to be bought mostly by the boys, who with 
them were pelting him and his cringing pony, to the great mirth 
of the bystanders. While the crowd, and the object of their at¬ 
tention, were thus engaged, at a little distance, an officer, who was 
passing, paused near the house, and, calling a couple of soldiers 
to his side, said to them,— 

“ Keep your eyes on that fellow with the scurvy pony yonder, 
and if you notice any thing suspicious in his movements, arrest 
him. It appears to me I have seen him in almost too many 
places to-day.” 

An expression of concern passed over Sabrey’s countenance, 
as she heard these words, and she gave an involuntary glance to 
the object thus pointed out, who, as she thought from his appear¬ 
ance, had also heard the order himself, or at least guessed its 
import. But instead of making off, as she expected, he spurred 
up his pony, and, coming directly up to the officer, asked him, 
with an air of confiding simplicity, to buy some of his apples, 
which he said were “ eny most ripe, and grand for pies.” 

“ Who are you, fellow ? ” said the officer, without heeding the 
other’s request. 

“ Who I be ? I am Jo Wilkins. But aint you going to buy 
some of the apples ? ” persisted the former. 

“Blast your apples!” impatiently replied the officer; “that 
is not what I want of you. Where do you live ? ” 

“ Up in the edge of Arlington, when I’m tu hum — next house 
to uncle Jake’s great burnt piece there, you know,” answered 
the other ; “ but these ap-” 

“ Whom are you for ? King or Congress ? ” interrupted the 
officer. 

“ Who be Congus ? I don’t know him,” said the former, with 
a doubtful stare. 

“ Well, then, whom do you fight for? ” resumed the somewhat 
mollified officer. 

“ Don’t fight for nobody tu our house, — cause dad’s a 
Quaker — but then if you’d buy-” 



113 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Yes, yes; but you must tell me, honestly, what you cama 
here for to-day, and who sent you, my lad.” 

“ Why, dad sent me to sell the apples, cause he wants the 
money to buy some rye with. But I’ve been all round, and aint 
sell’d half, they kept bothering me so. And now its time to go 
hum, and nobody won’t buy ’em ! ” said the speaker, with a 
doleful tone, and evident signs of snivelling. 

“ Well, well, my honest lad,” responded the commiserating 
and now satisfied officer; “don’t mind it—nobody wants to 
harm you. There is half a crown to pay you for my part of the 
bothering.” • 

“ Why, you going to buy ’em all r ” eagerly asked the other, 
as, with a grin of delight, he clutched the precious metal. 

“ No, no,” said the former, kindly. “ I don’t wish for any of 
your apples — they are too green, though they may do for 
cooking. You would be most likely to sell them in some of these 
houses.” 

“ Well, now, I vown ! I never thought of that! jest's likely’s 
not I mought, you! ” exclaimed the fellow, brightening up. 
“ Good mind to go right straight into this ere house and try it — 
will, by golly ! ” he added, leaping nimbly from his pony, swing¬ 
ing his panniers on his arm, and hurrying off round for the back 
door. 

“ Don’t molest the poor simpleton arw more, but disperse to 
your quarters,” said the officer, now 'il^aving his ratan to the 
scattering crowd, and resuming his walk up the street.- 

Waiting no longer than to hear this order, and see that it was 
about to be obeyed by the crowd, Sabrey hurried down to the 
kitchen, where she encountered the object of her solicitude 
standing within the door, holding up the half crown between the 
fingers of one hand, and snapping those of the other, with a look 
that needed no interpreting. 

“ Your disguise, Bart,” said the maiden, looking at the other 
with a smile—“ your disguise is so perfect, or rather, the new 
character, in which you this time appear, has been so well acted, 
that had it not been the afternoon you set for your third appear¬ 
ance, I should have never known you. I think you make a better’ 
Quaker boy than you did a crazy man last time, or buffoon and 
tumbler the first one. But what have you been able to gather, 
to-day ? ” 

“ Pretty much all that’s afoot, guess. The movement on 
Bennington is begun. Peters’s corps of tories and Indians have 
gone on to Cambridge ; and he, who is off to the lake, to-day, to 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


113 


consult with Skene and others about the expedition, is to follow, 
some time to-morrow, as is the German regiment picked out for 
the service. Got at it all, think ? ” 

“ Nearly. It is the plan, however, I understand, that when 
the stores are secured at Bennington, the troops are to proceed to 
Manchester, make prisoners of all the Council of Safety, and 
others of the principal men whom they can find, and return 
through Arlington.” 

“ Tiiey’ve got to get there, first, guess, and then catch ’em 
afterwards. But have you fixed out a letter about that and other 
things, ready for me to take ? I’m aching to be off with the 
news.” 

“ No, Bart. I have just discovered plots to entrap me that have 
made me resolve to die before I will remain here any longer. 
My old persecutor, and others a thousand times more powerful, 
are in league against me.” 

“ The girl that killed the wolf would stand the racket against 
big bugs and all, rather guess, if she tried it. Don’t know, though, 
being about woman matters so.” 

“ Ay, sir, to a woman there are human monsters more terrible 
than all the wolves of the forest. And I am determined on at¬ 
tempting to escape from this place without another hour’s delay ; 
with you, if you will permit.” 

“ Yes, glad to go into it; and by Captain Harry’s request, I 
was a^ going to propose the same thing myself, even without your 
new reasons. But this getting you off before dark, which you 
name, may be rather ticklish, miss. How did you think to 
manage it ? ” 

“ Look at this, sir! ” said Sabrey, exhibiting her permit by 
way of reply. “ Signed by a man whose authority, I think, will 
not be questioned, and allowing me, with my servant, to pass 
through the lines to rny friends in the country. I engage you 
to act as that servant, Bart.” 

“ I vags, now, if that aint lucky! ” exclaimed the former, 
with glistening eyes. “Yes, lucky enough, whether it come by 
ploughing with heifers or steers. But, let’s see a bit, though. 
How will*my turning servant to a lady, all at once, tally with 
the stories I’ve been telling, —that is, till we get beyond all who 
heard ’em ? Don’t know about that. But look here, miss ! ” he 
added, beckoning the other to the window. “ Do you see that 
tall old pine, standing alone, nearly in a line with the road, a 
mile or so off there, at the south ? ” 

“ Yes, very clearly.” 

10 * 


114 


THE KANGEKS, 


“ Well, that tree, which is beyond, and out of sight of the last 
pickets, stands near a house where a widow woman lives, who 
washes fine clothes for some of the officers, but wants to keep in 
with all sides, and so asks no questions and tells no stories. My 
saddle and fixings are hard by there, in the bushes. Now, sup¬ 
pose I go on there alone, and be scrubbing up Lightfoot, and 
feeding her with these apples, to pay her for playing Quaker so 
well. Can you get on to that place by the help of the pass, and 
tell straight stories, if questioned, abouf your servant being at the 
wash-woman’s, fixing things ? ” 

“ If you think it wisest, as it may be, I will try, and be there 
within an hour, if not detained. If I am, do not desert me, Bart, 
but return to this kitchen at dusk.” 

“ Agreed! But you’ll go it without the ifs, I reckon,” said 
Bart, swinging his panniers to his shoulder, and departing with 
full confidence in his ability to effect an escape perilous to 
them both, but made much more so to him by the new charge he 
had so cheerfully undertaken. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


115 


I 

CHAPTER X. 


“ But a gloom fell o’er their way, 
A fearful wail werrt by.” 


Fortunately for Miss Haviland, all those who had been 
enlisted to act as spies upon her movements happened> that 
afternoon, to be absent, or busily engaged in a quarter of the 
encampment from which all view of her proposed path of escape 
was intercepted by intervening buildings. Much to her relief, 
therefore, on setting out on her perilous journey, she was permit¬ 
ted to pass forward through the street unquestioned, and without 
exciting any particular observation. And when she arrived at 
the outpost, the soldier on duty, with a bare glance at her offered 
pass, respectfully motioned her to proceed on her way. A short 
walk then brought her to the house to which she had been 
directed ; and here, finding every thing in readiness, she immedi¬ 
ately mounted the now strangely-improved pony, and, with her 
trusty attendant on foot, set forward, at a quick pace, in the main 
road Leading from the lake to Fort Edward. Their way was now 
mostly through a deep forest, and over a road which every where 
exhibited evidence with what perseverance and skill the Ameri¬ 
cans had labored to destroy and block it up, and with what in¬ 
credible exertions it had been reopened by their opponents, wholly 
untaught in the easiest modes of accomplishing the Herculean 
task. In some places, long causeys over miry morasses had 
been entirely torn up, and every log of which they were composed 
drawn off beyond the means of recovery ; and, in others, streams 
had been dammed up, causing extensive overflows, or turned from 
their natural channels, and thus made to wash out impassable 
gulfs. Every bridge had disappeared, and all the surrounding 
timber rendered useless for constructing more ; while, for mile 
after mile, one continued mass of gnarled and crooked trees, 
here pitched together in seemingly inextricable tangles, and there 
piled mountains high, had been felled into the road, which even 
now had scarcely been made passable by the toiling thousands 
who, for weeks, had been employed upon it. In consequence 
of this, and the time spent in making circuits round in the woods, 




116 


THE KANGEKS, 


to avoid parties of the enemy, who were seasonably discovered 
by the wary guide to be still at work, in several places, in trying 
to improve some of the worst portions of the road, the progress 
of our heroine was slow and toilsome. And it was not till after 
a dreary and fatiguing ride of several hours, that she and her 
attendant began to emerge into the more open country bordering 
the Hudson. 

“ Now, miss,” said Bart, falling in by the side of the maiden, 
and speaking in a low, cautionary tone — “ now we are coming 
out on to the river, and at a spot that I feel kinder shyish of.” 

“ On what account, Bart ? ” asked the other, with a glance 
of concern. 

** Well, it’s for a reason I have, and then one or two more on 
top of that,” replied the former, with his usual indirectness. “ In 
the first place, it is a sort of a torified neighborhood about there, 
which may hold those more likely to mistrust and snap us up, 
than the regular-built enemy, who may, some of ’em, be there 
too, likely ; as a regiment, or so, have already gone on, by this 
same road, to Fort Edward, which is not a great ways be¬ 
yond.” 

“ Is there no way to avoid going through the place ? ” asked 
Sabrey. 

“ That is what I’m thinking about,” replied Bart, musing. 
“ But one thing is certain, you must be got somewhere, and a 
little reconnoitring be done, before we try to go through or 
round the pesky place. Now, here on the left is a pine thicket, 
that reaches along, and comes to a point, very near this Sandy 
Hill place, as they call it; and by entering the woods, and keep¬ 
ing on in a line with the road, we both might gain a spot, in that 
point, where we could safely see enough of what is going on 
there to judge of the rest.” 

I am unacquainted with the locality, and the character of the 
Inhabitants, and shall, therefore, be wholly guided by you,” re¬ 
sponded Sabrey, reining up in compliance with the motions, 
rather than the words, of the other. “ But what means have 
you had of ascertaining what you suggest respecting the 
place ? ” 

Why, I came this route the last spying trip I made,” replied 
the former; “ and being afoot — crazy folks don’t ride, you 
know — I kinder naturally kept going back and forward, and 
calling at places on the road to inquire for swamp angels, or blue 
dogs I had lost, or some sich-like whimseys, till I managed to find 
out who and what lived in most every house, all the way to Ben- 


oa THE Tory’s daughter. 


117 


nington. It is a tory concern of a place, and a sort of rendez¬ 
vous for those running away from our parts. One fellow, of the 
last sort, came plaguy nigh knowing me ; and would, forzino, 
if I hadn’t suddenly gone into a fit, to screw my features out 
of his acquaintance. Yes, we may as well be turning in here, I 
am thinking.” 

fn accordance with the plan just suggested. Miss Haviland now 
turned her willing steed, and plunged directly into the dark forest 
bordering the road on the left. Here following her guide, who 
kept some rods in advance to select and point out the places 
affording the most feasible route through the thick undergrowth, 
she slowly, and with no little personal inconvenience, made her 
way forward in the proposed direction, till she at length suc¬ 
ceeded in reaching the desired station, which was the top of a low, 
woody bluff, commanding, from some portions of it, a near and 
distinct view of the hamlet, in the opening below, of which the 
intended reconnoissance was to be made. Bart, now assisting 
the maiden to dismount, and directing her attention to a mossy 
hillock at hand, as an eligible seat or bed for resting herself^, 
turned the pony loose to crop the bushes, and disappeared to 
commence his observations. In a few minutes he returned, and, 
having reported the discovery of a safe and easy route for pass¬ 
ing to the east of the public road, as far as it might be necessary 
to avoid it, proceeded to reconnoitre the houses below. And 
taking a well-screened seat on a log, lying on the verge of the 
bluff, he looked long and intently. 

“ Well, sir, what discoveries are you making there ? ” at length 
asked Sabrey, wondering at his prolonged silence. 

“ Why, nothing very alarming, be sure,” replied the other. 
“ The place looks as if it was deserted, except one house ; but 
there’s something going on about that which I don’t somehow 
seem to understand. Suppose you throw a few of those ever¬ 
green vines near you over your head and shoulders, to prevent 
your dress from attracting notice, and come here to help me read 
out the puzzle.” 

In compliance with the unexpected suggestion, the maiden 
instantly rose, and, preparing herself, as directed, cautiously 
advanced and seated herself at his side. The road they had 
recently quitted was in plain view, a little distance to the right, 
and continued distinctly visible as it swept round towards the 
broad Hudson, whose tranquil surface was gleaming with the 
reflected brightness of the low-descending sun. On each side 
of the road, till it disappeared over a distant swell, were scat 


118 


THE RANGERS^ 

tered, at irregular intervals, the dwellings to which allusion has 
been made. Among the nearest and most respectable of these, 
stood, in a retired situation considerably to the east of the high¬ 
way, the house presenting the questionable appearances to which 
Bart’s attention had been directed. On one side of the spacious 
yard, or lawn, in front of this building, stood, tied to a post, 
and impatiently pawing the ground, a noble-looking horse, 
equipped with a richly-caparisoned side-saddle ; while near by, 
under the fence, sat, patiently smoking their pipes, three Indians, 
one of whom, as was evident by their contrasted bearing and ac¬ 
coutrements, was a chief, and the other two his attendants. Near 
the principal entrance was drawn up a two-horse team, having 
the appearance of awaiting the reception of persons about to de¬ 
part on some journey. At length the family, consisting evidently 
of father, mother, and their children, slowly, and in seeming 
mournful silence, issued from the door, and approached the wag¬ 
on, when the former, lifting the latter into the seats, again turned 
an anxious^ look towards the house, and, with his companion, 
whose handkerchief was frequently applied to her eyes, stood 
lingering and hesitating, as'if reluctant to part with some object 
of their solicitude still remaining behind. Presently the agitated 
couple returned to the door, and, with gestures of grief and sup¬ 
plication, appeared to be making a last appeal to one standing 
just wdthin the entrance, whose partially disclosed form, and 
white fluttering decorations, proclaimed her to be a gayly-dressed 
female. 

“ It acts some like a funeral there,” observed Bart, doubtfully ; 
“but then those Indians, that seem to be waiting for some one — 
and that horse with the lady’s saddle on him, which they appear 
to have the care of, and which looks, by the trim, like a British 
army horse — and-” 

“ Bart, do you know who lives there ? ” interrupted Sabrey, 
with a sudden start. 

“ A tory,” replied the other ; “ but not a fighting one, I gath¬ 
ered. That’s him and his wife standing before the door, 1 take 
it. His name is Me — something.” 

“ Merciful Heaven ! ” exclaimed Sabrey. “ I understand it 
all now. That lady, in the door, is dressed for her wedding — 
those before her are her brother and sister-in-law, pleading with 
her to go with them, instead of taking the questionable step she 
is evidently meditating. O that I dared rush down to the side 
of her well-judging friends, and join them in dissuading her from 
listening to the ill-timed summons of her lover; and especially 



OR TiiK Tory’s daughter. 


119 


from going with such an escort as the infatuated man appears to 
have sent for her ! ” 

Although Miss Haviland was wholly unprepared for here find¬ 
ing the residence of her friend, Jane McRea, which she had 
supposed to be in another and more distant locality, yet her quick 
perceptions, in combining the past and present circumstances, had 
not misled her. It was, indeed, that lovely and hapless girl, pass¬ 
ing through the last trial she was destined ever to be conscious of 
undergoing, — that of the distracting conflict of emotions produced 
by being now finally compelled to decide between the behests of 
prudence and of love, — between the advice and entreaties of 
confessedly kind and judicious relatives, and the opposing coun¬ 
sels and impassioned importunities of an idolized lover. Deeply 
and anxiously, that afternoon, had the thought of her situation 
engrossed the mind of our heroine, who both expected and dreaded 
to meet her on the way — expected, because her coming had 
been announced; and dreaded, not only on account of the pain it 
would occasion to witness her disappointment, and resist her en¬ 
treaties, but also on account of the danger of the unintentional 
betrayal which would be likely to attend a meeting with that 
guileless creature of the affections and her probable escort. And 
it was now with the mingled emotions naturally called up by the 
associations of former friendship, the contrast between the circum¬ 
stances of the past and present, together with fears and anxieties 
for the future, that Sabrey, after a few brief explanations to her 
attendant, resumed her observations of the scene before her, which, 
she hoped, might still result in the triumph of wisdom over the 
delusive pleadings of love. 

At length, she who had now become the principal object of 
solicitude in the family group, to which the attention of our con¬ 
cealed spectators had been directed, followed, with slow and hesi¬ 
tating steps, her still importuning friends into the yard, where, in 
her bridal robes of vestal white, and with her rich profusion of 
bright and wavy tresses hanging like a golden cloud over her 
shoulders, she stood at once a vision of loveliness and an object 
of commiseration. Again and again did those friends appear to 
renew their entreaties, at which the agitated girl seemed some¬ 
times to waver, and at others to reply only with her tears ; till at 
length the former, evidently wearied with tlTeir fruitless attempts, 
and despairing of success, ascended their vehicle, and drove off 
at a rapid pace, along the road to the south, without turning their 
heads to look behind them. Once, as she stood, like one bound 
by some fatal spell to the spot, wistfully gazing after the receding 


120 


THE RANGERS, 


wagon, a momentary relenting appeared to come over the 
wretched maiden. She irresolutely ran forward a few paces, 
and, imploringly stretching forth her white arms, uttered a faint, 
sobbing cry of, “ Come hack ! O, come hack ! ” But the late appeal, 
which would have so gladdened the hearts of those for whom it 
was intended, was destined to be unheeded. The cry was lost in 
the din of their rattling wheels, as they urged on their horses, as 
if anxious to escape from the painful scene. And the poor girl, 
dropping her arms, and turning hopelessly away to a small tree 
near by, leaned against the trunk for support, and, for a while, 
seemed to yield herself wholly a prey to the wild grief which 
now burst forth from the dreadful conflict of emotions that was 
rending her distracted bosom. At length she appeared to be 
slowly regaining her self-possession, and now soon fully arousing 
herself, she advanced towards the Indians, and, by signs, signified 
her readiness to attend them. With eager alacrity, the horse was 
led up for her to the door-step; when, lightly throwing herself 
into the saddle, she immediately set forth along the road to 
the north, preceded by the chief, and followed by his dusky 
assistants. 

“ Well, the poor thing has settled it at last,” observed Bart, draw¬ 
ing a long breath. “ But I aint so sure that those red characters, 
who appear to feel so crank at having got her started, will be 
allowed to get far with their prize, without seeing trouble.” 

“ Why, sir } ” asked Sabrey, wiping away the sympathetic tears 
that had started to her cheeks at what she had been witnessing — 
“ why do you make such a remark ? ” 

“ Well, it may not amount to any thing, be sure,” replied 
the other. “ But having had one eye on the lookout, during 
this affair at the house, I noticed, a while ago, some five or six 
scouts, slying along on the other bank of the river, over there, 
and crossing in a boat, and entering the woods on this side. By 
their appearance, I think they must be Continentals from our 
army below; and if it is these Indians they have been spying 
out, and are after, they will waylay them along here somewhere, 
likely.” 

“ O, if they could but take her from these creatures, and send 
her to her friends ! ” said the former, with emotion. 

“ Yes, but I hope they won’t attempt it,” said Bart; “ for if 
these Redskins, who are probably to have a smart price for getting 
her safe to camp, should find themselves about to be robbed of 
her, there’s no telling what they would do.” 

At this juncture, their attention was arrested by the sounds of 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


121 


footsteps approaching in the road from the north ; and, the next 
nioment, a second party of Indians, headed by a tall, fierce-look- 
ing chief, emerged into view, and advanced nearly to the edge 
of the woods ; when the chief, beholding the other party cojming 
on with their charge, suddenly halted, and stood awaiting their 
approach, with an air of doubt and disappointment, and with looks 
that plainly bespoke his jealous fears of losing the reward, which, 
it appeared, the short-sighted lover, in his impatience at the delay 
that had occurred, had offered him also to bring off his betrothed. 
The bold and arrogant air of the newly-arrived party, standing in 
the middle of the road, and seemingly intending to dispute the 
path, caused the others, as they now came up, to pause, as if for 
parley or explanation ; when a fierce and angry debate arose 
between the rival chiefs, in which the new comer, with dark 
scowls and menacing gestures, demanded the exclusive possession 
of the lady, which the other, at first mildly, and then in a tone of 
defiance, persisted in refusing. At length the latter, under the 
pretence of wishing to obtain water, but with the real ohject, 
probably, of avoiding a collision till some compromise could be 
effected, approached the alarmed maiden, and led her horse out 
into a little opening in the bushes on the left, where a cool and 
inviting spring was seen bursting from beneath the wide-spreading 
roots of a stately pine-tree standing in the background ; and here 
leaving her under the shade of the tree, still sitting on her horse, 
he and his attendants gathered round the spring for the purpose 
of quenching their thirst. At this instant, white streams of smoke, 
followed by thS startling reports of muskets, suddenly burst from 
a neighboring thicket, and the band of concealed scouts, with 
challenging hurrahs, were seen springing from their coverts, and 
rapidly gliding from tree to tree towards the spot. The astonished 
and unprepared Indians, who had escaped death only by the dis¬ 
tance from which the missiles of their assailants had been dis¬ 
charged upon them, all, with one accord, slunk instantly away 
into the surrounding bushes. 

Scarcely had they disappeared, however, before the tall chief, 
whose ill-omened appearance and conduct we have noted, again 
darted out into the opening ; when, with a quick, wild glance 
around him, and a yell of fiendish triumph, he rapidly whirled 
his arm aloft, and, the next instant, the glittering tomahawk was 
seen, like a shooting gleam of light, swiftly speeding its way on 
its death-doing errand. 

One solitary, piercing shriek, suddenly cut short, and sinking 
into an appalling groan, rose from the fatal spot; while the white 
VOL. II. 11 


122 


THE RANGERS, 


robes of the victim, like the ruffled pinions of some suddenly- 
struck bird, came fluttering to the ground. The deed was done ; 
and the spirit of the beauteous and unfortunate Jane McRea had 
left its mangled tenement and fled forever! * 

A momentaiy pause ensued ; when, amidst the intermingling 
shouts and cries of murder and vengeance, that now burst from 
both scouts and Indians, the fiend-like perpetrator of the foul deed, 
who had been seen to leap forward towards his fallen victim with 
his scalping-knife, bounded back into the road, and, there hold¬ 
ing up and shaking the gory trophy at his rival, immediately 
plunged into the forest and disappeared. The next moment a 
detachment of British cavalry, who had been sent out to intercept 
the scouts, came thundering down the road, and put an end to the 
tumult. Turning away in horror from the spot, now made dan¬ 
gerous by the presence of the British, who, on seeing what was 
done, and learning the facts, soon begaivto scatter in all directions 
after the murderer, Miss Haviland and her guide hastily resumed 
their journey by the route which the latter had discovered for 
avoiding the road, and which they pursued till dark, when, arriv¬ 
ing at the house of a family in the interest of the American 
cause, they found a comfortable shelter for the night, and the 
repose so much needed to counteract the effect of the agitating 
events of the day on our heroine, and fortify her for the trials 
yet in store for her. 


*• From the various published accounts of the massacre of Miss McRea, 
we have followed, in our Ulustrations of that melancholy tragedy, as far 
as our limits and plan permitted us to carry them, the one deemed by us 
the most probable.- By way of finishing the details of the horrible scene, 
however, it may he proper here to state, that Captain Jones, the strangely 
infatuated lover, having despatched, for the reward of a barrel of rum, 
one party of Indians after her, and then a second one, for the same reward, 
had started to meet her, when, encountering the murderer with the scalp, 
which he recognized by the peculiar color and length of the hair, he has¬ 
tened, in a state bordering on absolute distraction, to the fatal scene. A 
British, officer, wdth a few attendants, had, in the mean time, removed the 
corpse to a wagon by the road side, and was guarding it, when the lover 
arrived to claim it. But his lamentations were so terrible, and his conduct 
so frantic, that it was deemed advisable to remove him, and bury the re¬ 
mains from his sight. From that hour, the bereaved lover was an altered 
and ruined man. And he died soon after, as there is every reason to be¬ 
lieve, of a broken heart. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


123 


CHAPTER XL 


“ Still on? Have not the forest gloom, 
The taunt of foes, the threatened doom. 
Shaken thy courage yet ? ” 


The indefatigable Bart, after seeing the object of his greatest 
solicitude in safety for the night, that of his next, his loved 
Lightfoot, well stabled and fed, and, lastly, his own wants supplied, 
determined, with his usual caution and forethought, on making a 
little tour of observation to Fort Edward, now some miles in the 
rear, for the purpose of gathering what new intelligence could 
be gained respecting the movements of the enemy, which might 
both enhance the value of his budget of news to carry home, 
and enable him to shape his course more understandingly and 
safely on the morrow. Accordingly, in the new disguise of a 
barefooted, bareheaded, coatless farmer’s boy, with a basket of 
green corn to sell for roasting slung on his arm, he proceeded 
on foot to the recently-established rendezvous of the enemy at 
the place above named, and boldly entered their encampment. 
Here he soon made discoveries that filled him with uneasiness, 
and, finally, those which thoroughly alarmed him for his own 
and the safety of his charge. The whole camp was in a state 
of bustle and commotion. Colonel Baum, in anticipation of the 
time fixed for his march, had just arrived with his appointed 
force, and was intending, after allowing his troops a short 
respite, to press immediately forward that night on the contem¬ 
plated expedition. Bands of painted Indians, who had also ar¬ 
rived from the main army since dark, were feasting and drinking 
in grim revelry, or enacting the frightful -war-dance, on the out¬ 
skirts of the encampment. Parties of tories were constantly 
coming in from the surrounding towns, receiving arms, and de¬ 
parting to their different allotted stations, to act as pickets to the 
force about to advance, or as scouts to scour the country along 
the -road to the south. And at last, to crown all, Peters and 
Haviland, with a small number of attendants, all bearing, on 
their bespattered persons, evidence of hard and rapid travelling, 
rode hurriedly into camp, and announced that a dangerous spy 



124 


THE RANGERS, 


had, that afternoon, been at the head-quarters of the main army 
audaciously abducted a young lady, and with her escaped in 
this direction, for the arrest of whom a handsome reward should 
be paid. 

“ It is time you and I was jogging, Bart,” muttered the unsus¬ 
pected personage within hearing, who deemed himself not the 
least interested in this unexpected announcement, as he gradually 
edged himself out of the camp, and made his way, with unusual 
haste, back to his quarters for the night. 

Scarcely had the first faint suffusions of morning light begun 
to be distinguishable in the chambers of the east, before the well- 
recruited Lightfoot stood pawing at the door, as if impatient to 
receive and bear oft' her precious burden from the scene of 
danger. In a few minutes, the fair fugitive, in answer to the 
summons of her vigilant attendant, came forth, evidently refreshed 
by her repose, and, in a good measure, recovered from the 
shock occasioned by the sad and fearful spectacles of yesterday. 
Without any allusions to the startling discoveries he had made 
since they parted for the night, other than the quiet remark that 
he had ascertained that it might not be wholly safe for them to 
proceed any longer in the main road. Barf assisted the lady to 
mount, and led the way on their now doubly difficult and haz¬ 
ardous flight. Striking oft' obliquely to the left, into a partially 
cleared pine plain, and then, after thus proceeding a while, again 
turning to the right, they directed their course forward in a line 
parallel to the great thoroughfare to the south, but at a sufficient 
distance from it to insure them against the observation of all who 
might be passing therein, or scouting along its borders. And on, 
on, now through open fields, and now through dense forests, now 
through splashy pools, or rapid rivers, and now over sharp pitches 
or deep ravines, now in cross-roads or cow-paths, and now in 
trackless thickets, now over fenny moors, and now along the 
rocky declivities of mountains, — on, on, did they pursue their 
toilsome and weary way through the seemingly interminable hours 
of all the first half of that eventful day. 

At length, however, believing themselves many miles beyond 
the rendezvous of Peters’s corps, who were understood to have 
been selected as the pioneers of the expedition, they emerged 
from the woods, and fell into the main road leading up the 
winding Walloomscoik to the village of Bennington. Greatly 
rejoiced that, at last, she could be permitted to travel in a smooth 
road with some assurance of safety, and encouraged by the 
prospect of soon reaching the friends and acquaintance of her 


OH THE Tory’s DAtrCIITER. 


125 


old neighborhood, from whom she was confident of a cordial 
welcome, our heroine now rode on with lightened feelings and 
renewed spirits. But she soon perceived, by the manner of her 
guide, as he examined the appearances of the road, as he v/ent 
on, and occasionally cast uneasy glances before and behind him, 
that he did not consider it yet time to rejoice. And soon he 
stopped short, and observed, — 

There are too many tracks in this road for my liking, and not 
of the right kind to read well, either.” 

“ I hope you will indulge in no unnecessary alarms, Bart,” 
said the other, reluctant to leave the road, as she supposed he 
was about to advise. “ You, who yesterday manifested little 
uneasiness, to-day, when we are farther removed from danger, 
have appeared extremely cautious and apprehensive, I have 
thought. Why such a change, while, the reverse would seem so 
much more rational ? ” 

“ Well, miss, the question is not so onnatural as it might be, I 
reckon,” replied the former ; “ and I have been expecting you’d 
wonder some why I led you on such a jaunt as we’ve had. But 
the fact was, your chance of getting ofi’ has been a little scaly, 
to-day, to say nothing of the shadow of a rope that’s been round 
my own neck in the mean time.” 

“ I cannot comprehend you, Bart,” said the maiden, with a 
look of surprise and concern. 

“ Spose so ; for I have held in, cause I thought I wouldn’t 
worry your mind till needful, which it may be now; so I’ll tell 
you the w'hole kink,” replied Bart, proceeding to relate his last 
night’s discoveries, and then adding, — 

“ Now a party of the enemy — for I saw a moccason track 
just now, and none on our side would be in such company as 
that means — a party of ’em have gone on before us ; and my 
notion is, that w^e strike off through this bushy pasture to the 
left.” 

“ Let us do so,,then, if such is our situation, and that without 
a moment’s delay,” cried Sabrey, in alarm at the unexpected 
disclosure. 

“ Well, perhaps it an’t best to fret about.it, jest at this minute,” 
responded the imperturbable guide — “ I kinder want to make an 
observation or two, before we start,” he added, ascending an 
elevation near by, which commanded a view of the road both 
ways for a considerable distance. 

After glancing along the road in front, a moment, he turned 
and bent his searching gaze in the other direction, where he 
11 * 


126 


THE RANGERS, 


soon appeared to discover something that both interested and 
disturbed him. 

“ It is, by Herod ! it is the whole mam body, Germans and 
all, at their rations, within a mile of us, and their pickets on the 
move in this direction ! ” he at length exclaimed, hastily quitting 
his post of observation. 

Hurrying down to the side of the startled maiden, he sprang to' 
the nearest length of the fence, here enclosing the road, and 
grappling, with main strength, the topmost of the heavy poles 
of which it was composed, soon effected a breach sufficiently 
•low to allow the horse to leap over without endangering the seat 
of the rider. ' 

“ Here, go it, Lightfoot! gently ! there you are ! Now off 
with ye, as if the divil was at your heels! ” cried Bart, as the 
horse, with her fair burden, dashed lightly through the breach, 
and cantered off in the direction indicated by the finger of her 
master. 

Pausing to r^lace the fence, lest the opening should attract 
the notice of those coming on behind, Bart rapidly followed, and, in 
another minute, the fugitives were safely screened from observation 
by the thick foliage of the different clumps of bushes, which they 
managed to keep between them and the road they had just quitted. 

“ There is a house,” said Bart, musingly, after they had pro¬ 
ceeded a while in silence—“ there is a house about half a mile 
ahead, and nearly the same distance from the great road, with 
woods between, which is a place I called at when I came down, 
and which I had been all along calculating to turn off to, for a 
short stop, as we might shape our course to do now, if not some¬ 
what risky.” 

“ A little rest and refreshment would certainly be very ac¬ 
ceptable,” said the other, “ if it could be safely obtained. Who 
lives there ? ” 

“ Well, some folks.” 

“ Loyalists ? ” 

“ Tories, d’ye mean ? No, not by a jug full.” 

“ Who are they, then, sir ? ” 

“ The man,” said Bart, glancing up to his wondering com¬ 
panion, with an odd air of shyness, as he provokingly persisted 
in his evasions — “ the man is one of Warner's sergeants, and a 
sort of relation to somebody that I thought likely would be 
visiting at his house by this time. And — and 1 guess we’ll 
venture there, considering,” he added, suddenly dashing some 
distance ahead, under pretence of pointing out the way. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


127 


After winding their course a while among the variously grouped 
little thickets that studded the old pasture, they at length entered 
a tall forest of maple, which the incisions in the trees, together 
with the marks of an old boiling-place, that they soon reached, pro¬ 
claimed to be the sugar orchard, belonging, probably, to the estab¬ 
lishment they were seeking. And, now falling into a beaten path, 
they soon perceived, by the glimpses of an opening which they 
occasionally caught through the trees, that they were drawing near 
to the object of their search. The serpentine course of the path, 
however, and the undergrowth, so thick as to be nearly impervi¬ 
ous to the sight, prevented any direct view of the opening ; and 
they passed on without any veiy exact notions of its propinquity, 
till a sudden turn of the path brought them unexpectedly to the 
edge of the wood, and in full view of the house, not a hundred 
yards distant; when, to their astonishment and dismay, they be¬ 
held the place in possession of a large party of the enemy. 
Bart instantly caught the bridle, and was turning the horse for 
the purpose of fleeing back into the forest, when five or six armed 
men sprang out from the bushes behind and around them, cutting 
off their retreat in every direction. And the next moment they 
were prisoners to the minions of the vindictive Peters. 

Bart’s quick eye had told him, at a glance, that there was no 
chance for him to escape ; and, before his natural looks could be 
noted, he had become transformed into a lout of so stolid and 
inoffensive an appearance, that his captors seemed greatly dis¬ 
appointed, and evidently entertained doubts whether he could be 
the one they supposed they were about to secure. And it was 
not till his pale and trembling fellow-prisoner had been conducted 
off on her horse some rods, that they could make him seem to 
comprehend that he was a prisoner, and must go with them. He 
then burst out into a piteous fit of weeping, and, passively receiv¬ 
ing the kicks and cuffs of his keepers to get him in motion, went 
bawling along, like a whipped schoolboy, towards the house. 

“ I thought ’twould be jes so ! ” he exclaimed, between his sobs 
and outcries. “ I most knowed when that man hired father to have 
me go to show the woman the way — I most knowed she was 
running away, and would get me into some scrape. Then the 
man, like enough, had done something, so he darsent go any 
furder with her. And now they’ll lay it all to me—boo-hoo! 
00 - 00 - 00 ! ” 

“ Conduct the lady into the house! ” said the officer in com¬ 
mand, as the prisoners were led into the yard — “conduct her 
into the house, and set a guard round it, till orders can be got 


128 


THE RANGERS, 


from the colonel. And as to this bawling devil,” he continued, 
turning with a scrutinizing, but somewhat staggered look, to the 
blubbering Bart, “ take him to the barn, where I just noticed 
some good cords, bind him hand and foot, and guard him closely. 
He will make less noise within an hour from now, I fancy.” 

“ But, your honor,” began one of the scouts who had brought 
in the prisoners- 

“ Yes, yes,” interrupted the other, “ I have just been informed 
of his pretences; but there’s an even chance that he is sham¬ 
ming, and the fellow we want, after all. Do as I have ordered.” 

Bart was now led into the open barn, which stood facing the 
yard, and projecting in the rear over a steep bank, making from 
the floor, on the back side, that was also open, a‘perpendicular 
fall of nearly a dozen feet. He was then ordered to sit down in 
the middle of the floor, when two of the half dozen keepers who 
had him in charge, with many a half taunting, half pitying joke 
at his doleful whimpering, carelessly proceeded to prepare the 
cords for binding him, while the rest laid aside their guns, and 
went searching about the barn for eggs, all, notwithstanding the 
caution of their commander, being evidently so much impressed 
with the idea of his innocence as to disarm them of the vigilance 
usually exercised on such occasions. At this juncture, just as 
the two men, one standing before and the other behind him, 
were in the act of stooping to take his legs and arms, Bart started 
to his feet with the suddenness of thought, and giving the one in 
his rear a paralyzing kick in the pit of his stomach, grappled 
round the legs of the other, and, bearing him, in spite of all his 
struggles, across the floor, leaped with him from the verge to the 
earth below. Managing to keep uppermost in the descent, Bart, 
as the man struck heavily on the ground, leaped unhurt from the 
senseless body, and, with the speed of a wild deer, made his way 
to the nearest point of woods, which he fortunately reached just in 
time to avoid the volley of bullets that was sent after him by the 
rallying guard from whom he had so strangely escaped. While 
the balked tories, in the general commotion that now ensued, were 
giving vent to their rage and mortification, in cursing one anoth¬ 
er and the more particular object of their wrath, whom they con¬ 
cluded it was useless to pursue, a long, shrill whistle was heard 
issuing from another point of the forest, to which it was thought the 
escaped prisoner could not have.had time to pass round. Scarce¬ 
ly had the sound died away, when a movement, accompanied by 
a low snorting, was heard in the high-fenced cow-yard, into which 
Lightfoot had been turned for safe keeping. The whistle was 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


129 


soon repeated, and the next moment the sagacious animal was 
seen rearing herself nearly upright in the air, and then, with a 
prodigious leap, throwing herself over the fence into the field 
beyond. Although the tories, for a while, as little comprehended 
this movement of the pony, as they did, at first, that of her mas¬ 
ter, yet they raised the alarm that the horse had broken away; 
and a dozen men threw down their guns, and ran out into the 
field to head her ; but, dashing at and through them, like a mad 
Fury, she bounded off at full speed, and soon disappeared in the 
woods in the direction in which the whistling had been heard, 
leaving the baffled pursuers and their associates now fully to 
perceive how completely they had all been outwitted and outdone 
by both horse and master. 

Much of our happiness is the result of contrast. A slight alle¬ 
viation, unexpectedly springing out of a disheartening misfortune, 
not unfrequently affords a comparative pleasure more keenly 
appreciated than unalloyed blessings arising out of the ordinary 
circumstances of life. The pleasure of Miss Haviland was 
equalled only by her surprise, when, on entering the house, she 
found her former fellow-prisoner, the sprightly and fearless Vine 
Howard, a transient but favored inmate, whose presence here 
now fully explained the enigmatical language of Bart, on the 
way, while it soon raised a shrewd suspicion of the cause of the 
awkward shyness he had exhibited in making his partial and 
roundabout revelations. Their mutual salutations, inquiries, and 
explanations, had scarcely been exchanged, before they were 
called to the window by an outcry and commotion among the 
tories without; when they had the unspeakable satisfaction of 
witnessing the escape of Bart, for whose situation and fate they 
had both, from different causes, felt the deepest commiseration 
and the most gloomy apprehensions. 

“ Now, ” said the animated Vine, as she turned exultingly away 
from the gratifying scene that.had opened by the escape of Bart, 
and closed by that of his pony — “ now, Sabrey, if they will let 
you remain here till dark, I will see what I can do towards effect¬ 
ing your escape, which, to be candid about it, I mainly came 
here to favor. But whether you escape, remain, or are dragged 
back to the British camp, I will not this time be separated from 
you.” 

The proffered assistance of the spirited girl, however, at least 
so far as related to the contemplated attempt to escape by night, 
was not destined to be called in requisition. In a short time, a 
messenger was seen to arrive ; upon which the whole party of 


130 


TKti RANGERS, 


tories commenced preparations for an immediate departure. 
Presently a closely covered vehicle, drawn by one horse, ap¬ 
peared coming from the main road, and approaching the door. 
The next moment, the officer, whom we have already noted, en¬ 
tered the house, and told Miss Haviland she was required to 
depart. 

“ This young lady attends me, if I am compelled to go, sir,” 
said Sabrey, firmly, pointing to Vine, who instantly advanced 
and locked her arm within that of the former, by way of confirm¬ 
ing the assertion. 

“ Such are not my orders,” responded the officer, with an air 
of slight perplexity. 

“ Then I go not with you alive, sir,” said Miss Haviland, with 
calm determination. 

“ Nor will I be separated from Aer, by you, while I am living,” 
added Vine, with no less spirit. 

“ Well, well, ladies, you must have your own way, I suppose. 
But be prompt; the carriage waits for you,” replied the officer, 
stepping back to the door. 

In a few minutes more, the ladies presented themselves at the 
door, and, without accepting the offered assistance of their sum- 
moner, entered the unoccupied vehicle, which was now immedi¬ 
ately put in motion, and conducted on in the rear of the main 
column of the tories, who had already commenced their march 
towards the great road. As they emerged from the short piece 
of forest through which their way now led, the exciting spec¬ 
tacle of a large body of troops, moving in military array along 
the road, accompanied by the hum of mingling voices, the steady 
tramp of men and horses, the rattling of tumbrels, and the heavy 
rumbling of artillery, unexpectedly burst upon the senses of the 
startled maidens. Baum’s select and finely-equipped regiment 
of Germans and British occupied the front, and Peter’s motley 
corps of tories and Indians the rear of the long-extended col¬ 
umn. As the head of the detachment in possession of the fair 
prisoners reached the road, they came to a halt; when, after 
waiting till the corps to which they belonged had mostly passed 
by, they, to the agreeable disappointment of the girls, turned in, 
and moved on with the rest towards that little anticipated scene 
of defeat and death from which so few of them were destined to 
return. 

“ By this time,” observed Vine to her thoughtful companion, 
after they had concluded the remarks which the novelty of their 
situation naturally elicited — “ by this time, Bart, at the rate he 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


131 


will be likely to ride, has nearly reached Bennington, now less 
than ten miles distant; and in another hour after, if the news he 
carries, has the effect on our army there that I anticipate from what 
I learned when I came down, these fellows will be met on the 
w’ay by a force which they cannot be expecting to see. ^ Can 
they, do you suppose ? ” 

“ I think not,” replied Sabrey, “ or we should have been sent 
back, at once, to the British camp, as we expected ; but, believing 
he shall meet with no serious opposition, and probably fearing I 
should find some means to escape, if sent back, my magnani¬ 
mous persecutor concludes to drag me round with him and his 
minions, that 1 may be watched more closely, till, having com¬ 
pleted his anticipated triumphs, he is ready to return.” 

“But where is Peters?” asked the other; “where is that 
remarkable gentleman ?ww, that he don’t present himself here, 
to pay his respects, or make’his pologies, or assure you of your 
safety, or frame some story by the way of accounting for his 
conduct, or, at least, of smoothing the matter ? One would sup¬ 
pose the fellow would want to say something on the occasion.” 

Yes,” replied the former; “ but he wishes to see me as little 
as I do him, I presume. Should he find it impossible to avoid 
me, however, he would probably come up boldly, and say my 
detention was a mistake of his subaltern ; or that he only directed 
it to afford me a safe escort to my friends in the Grants.” 

“ There would be a deal of love in such doings.” 

“ Pie entertains none ; not one particle now, if he ever did, for 
me. Vine.” 

“ What the deuse, then, does he want with you ? ” 

“ Indeed, I hardly know myself.” 

“ Marry you ? ” 

“ If he does still aim at that, it is with no honorable motives. 
I have had some strange suspicions, lately, and I feel but too 
thankful at this prospect of a battle, for I shall cheerfully meet 
all dangers I may encounter from the flying bullets of our people, 
for my chance of a release.” 

“ Chance, Sabrey ? Why, I know our side will get the vic¬ 
tory, when we shall be made prisoners to — well, to about the 
right sort of fellows, probably,” added the girl, with a merry 
laugh. 

The conversation was here interrupted by the scattering reports 
of musketry somewhere in front, which instantly threw the whole 
line into commotion. An immediate halt was commanded, and 
the troops hastily formed in order of battle, as well as the ground 




133 


THE KAHGERS, 


would permit. Glancing over the line in front, from the small 
elevation on which they chanced to have stopped, the girls per¬ 
ceived that the head of the column had reached the banks of the 
stream that here crossed the road, and were rapidly deploying 
into the fields, to the right and left, to be prepared to receive 
their yet invisible foe. The bridge over the stream had just been 
torn up, and its scattered wrecks were seen floating down the 
stream below. While Baum was hurrying forward his artillery to 
the front, a body of about two hundred Americans emerged from 
their coverts in the bushes, some distance from the opposite bank, 
and, with an ominous shout of defiance, discharged their guns, 
and disappeared over the hill beyond, before the slow Germans, 
who alone were yet near enough to do any execution with mus¬ 
kets, were ready to return a single shot. A strong guard of 
pickets, consisting of tories and Indians, were now sent forward 
to ford the stream, and keep watch of their retreating assailants., 
while the few wounded and dying wretches who had experienced 
the effects of American marksmanship were carried back on 
hastily-constructed litters to a house in the rear, affording the 
shocked maidens, as they were borne by groaning and writhing 
in their agony, a sad and sickening foretaste of the fearful scene 
of blood and carnage they were destined soon to witness. As 
soon as the bridge w^as repaired by the engineers, \vho were 
occupied nearly two hours in rendering it passable, the column 
was put in motion, and again moved forward, but much slower 
and more cautiously than before ; for there was something in the 
manner of this attack, as unimportant as it was, and even in the 
shouts of their assailants, that had disturbed the minds, and cast 
a visible shade of thoughtfulness over the countenances, of these 
hitherto self-confident and boastful invaders of jhe Green Moun¬ 
tains. For the next three or four miles, however, they moved on 
unmolested ; when, coming to a hamlet of log-houses scattered 
along the highway on both sides of the stream, that, here again 
crossing the road, wound through a smooth meadow of consid¬ 
erable extent, the word Halt ! halt ! rang loudly, and from com¬ 
pany to company, through the line, with an emphasis and sig¬ 
nificance that instantly apprised all that trouble w’as at hand. 
The next moment all were in commotion, hurry, and alarm. 
Amidst the furious beating of the rallying drums, and the min¬ 
gling clamor of dictating voices, the cannon were detached from 
the horses, run forward, and unlimbered ; the fences on each side 
of the road were levelled to the ground, and the whole force rap¬ 
idly thrown into battle array, the tories taking position in the 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


IZli 

meadow on the right, and the regulars on the more elevated 
grounds to the left of the road, there to await the foe, understood to 
be approaching in unexpected strength just beyond the thick copse 
which terminated the opening on the east. While this was trajnspir- 
ing, the officer who had before taken charge of Miss Haviland and 
her friend came forward, and, summoning them from their car¬ 
riage, hurried them to a large, strongly-built log-house, around 
which a company of tories had been posted, when, bidding them 
enter and take care of themselves, he hastened back to his post, 
to take part in repelling the menaced onset. Neither that day nor 
the next, however, was destined to be the one which was to cover 
the untrained freemen of New England with the deathless laurels 
of Bennington. Stark, after marching out into the open field, 
offering battle, and vainly manoeuvring to draw the enemy from 
their advantageous ground, retired about a mile, and encamped 
for the night, leaving Baum to intrench himself in his chosen 
position, and despatch expresses to Burgoyne to apprise him of 
his unexpectedly perilous situation, and ask for reenforcement. 

VOL. II. 12 





134 


THE RANGERS, 


CHAPTER XII. 


“ Sad was the year, by proud oppression driven, 

When transatlantic liberty arose, 

Not in the sunshine and the smile of Heaven, 

But wrapped in whirlwinds, and begirt with woes, 
Amidst the strife of fratricidal Soes.^^ — Campbell. 


The house, into which our heroine and her attendant had been 
ushered for safe keeping during the expected conflict, was divided 
into two compartments, and separately occupied by a couple of 
young farmers, and their still more youthful and recently espoused 
wives, twin sisters, by the names of Maiy and Martha. But as 
happy a social circle as these close and interesting ties should 
have continued to render the inmates, the fiend of discord, with 
the approach of the opposing armies, had just entered in among 
them. One of the young men was a whig, and the other a tory ; 
and the wives had very naturally adopted the predilections of 
their respective husbands. The young men had, as yet, however, 
taken no active part in the public quarrel ; and, while the war 
was at a distance, their difference of opinion had not been per¬ 
mitted very essentially to disturb their friendly intercourse. But 
now, as the war was brought to their door, the sight of the two 
hostile armies, coming together for deadly conflict on the great 
issue in which their hitherto repressed sympathies were oppo¬ 
sitely enlisted, had aroused the demon of contention in their 
friendly bosoms. The boastful assumptions of the tory, uttered 
in his excitement at beholding the imposing display of the British 
forces around him, were promptly met by the counter predictions 
of the other. Retort, recrimination, and darkly-hinted menaces 
followed, till jealousy and rancor seemed completely to have 
usurped the place of all those fraternal feelings that lately blessed 
their peaceful abode. 

Such 'svas the painful and ill-omened scene which was passing 
in the apartment of the brother who had espoused the cause of 
his country, where both families were assembled to witness the 
anticipated battle, when the unexpected entrance of the girls pul 
an end to the altercation ; and it soon after being announced that the 
Americans had retreated, the tory, followed by his wife, retired, 




OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


135 


with an exulting sneer, to his own room, leaving the fair stran¬ 
gers, as it happily chanced, to the care and more congenial com¬ 
panionship of the young patriot and his warmly sympathizing 
Martha, who now kindly supplied their wants, and then conducted 
them to their attic chamber, where, it being now nearly dark, 
they immediately betook themselves to their homely but grateful 
couch. And, overcome by the fatigues and harrowing anxieties 
of the day, they soon fell asleep, expecting to be roused in the 
morning by the din of the battle, which they felt confident was 
yet to take place before the invaders would be permitted to ad¬ 
vance farther on their boasted mission of plunder and outrage. 

But the next day was to be marked by the battle of the ele¬ 
ments, rather than of men. The morning was ushered in by a 
storm of unusual violence. And as the day advanced, so seemed 
to increase the power of the tempest. The black, flying clouds, 
deeply enshrouding the mountain tops, and dragging the summits 
of the low, woody hills around, closer and closer begirt the dark¬ 
ened earth. Heavier and heavier dashed the deluging torrents 
against the smitten herbage of the field, and the trembling habita¬ 
tions of men; and louder and louder roared the wind, as it went 
howling and raging over the vexed wilderness, as if in mockery 
of the intended conflict of the feeble creatures of earth, who now 
stood shrinking and shivering in its rain-freighted blasts. 

Miss Haviland and her friend, in the mean time, closely kept 
their little chamber ; and as little enviable as were their sensations 
under the terrors which the tempest, as it roared around the 
rocked dwelling, naturally inspired, it was soon with feelings of 
thankfulness that they found themselves permitted to remain even 
there unmolested ; for their ears were continually shocked, and 
their liveliest apprehensions often excited, by the profane vocifer¬ 
ations, the noisy ribaldry, and lawless conduct of the tories, who, 
driven from their drenched tents, which aflbrded them but a feeble 
protection against the fury of the storm, had crowded into the 
lower rooms of the house, where, half stifled, and jostled for 
want of space, they filled up the stairway, and repeatedly at¬ 
tempted to force open the fastened door of the trembling inmates 
of the apartment above. But the latter were at length permitted 
to experience a temporary relief from this source of annoyance 
and apprehension. Towards night the tempest lulled, and the 
rain abated, when the tories left the house, and joined in the uni¬ 
versal rejoicing of the troops of the encampment, that the dis¬ 
comforts and suflerings of the storm were over. It soon became 
manifest, however, that they had been relieved of one evil only 


136 


THE RANGEKS, 


to be disturbed by anotlier. In a short time, the American scout¬ 
ing parties began to show themselves on the border of the field, 
in various directions around the encampment. Presently, the 
sharp crack of the rifle, followed by the whistling of bullets, and 
the fall of one of their number, in the midst of the startled camp, 
apprised them of the danger of remaining longer inactive. And 
Baum, astonished at the temerity of his foes, and scarcely less so 
at their evident ability to do execution with small arms at such a 
distance, instantly issued orders to fit out parties of tories and 
Indians, to go and dislodge them. At this juncture, the girls 
received a visit from their friendly hostess, who, with a troubled 
look, entered their room, and, after telling them that she and her 
sister had been, like themselves, little else than prisoners in the 
other chamber, proceeded to inform them that her husband, im¬ 
pressed with a sense of duty to his country, had secretly stolen 
off", during the preceding night, to the American camp ; and that 
his tory brother-in-law, from whom she had contrived to conceal 
her husband’s absence through the morning, had just discovered 
the fact, and, with bitter imprecations, seized his gun and rushed 
out to join the parties fitting out to fight his countrymen. Scarcely 
waiting to finish her hurried communication, the agitated woman 
hurried down and joined her no less excited sister in the yard, to 
witness the expected encounter of the opposing skirmishers; 
while Sabrey and Vine, sharing with the sisters, though less 
keenly, perhaps, in the interest of the event, took post at their 
window, which commanded a clear view of the scene of action, 
and looked forth for the same purpose. 

A company of tories were cautiously stealing along a low, 
bushy vale, towards the most westerly of the opposite woody 
points, from which the firing had proceeded. On the extreme 
right of the field, under a clump of tall evergreens, was seen the 
encampment of the Indians, who were in lively commotion, and 
evidently preparing to join in the meditated sally. One, whose 
stature, accoutrements, and bearing denoted him to be a chief, 
and principal leader of the band, appeared to be actively engaged 
in giving orders, and pointing out the course to be taken to reach 
some designated station in the w^oods. But just as the whole 
party were beginning to file away in their usual fashion, theii 
steps were suddenly arrested by a rapid discharge of rifle-shots, 
that burst upon them from behind an old bush fence on the bor¬ 
der of the forest, about a hundred yards to the east; when the 
tall chief, and three or four of his followers, in different parts of 
their line, were seen leaping wildly into the air, and then pitching 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


137 


neadlong to the earth, to rise no more. The next instant, every 
dark form had vanished, and their places of refuge were only dis¬ 
tinguishable by the occasional reports of their guns, as the pro¬ 
tracted skirmish gradually receded within the depths of the.forest. 

Meanwhile, the tories had proceeded on their destination undis- 
covered, till they reached the termination of their screening ridge 
on the left, which brought them within fifty yards of the bushy 
point where the largest party of their opponents lay concealed, 
unsuspicious of any immediate attack. Here the former made a 
brief pause, when they rushed forward with a loud shout, and, 
after a rapid exchange of shots, and a brief hand to hand con¬ 
flict, drove the others from their ground, and compelled them to 
flee across the intervening opening to the opposite jungle, for 
protection. A cry of exultation now burst from the lips of the 
wife of the tory, as she witnessed this successful onset of her 
husband’s party, and, crowing over her disappointed sister, she 
began to treat the insignificant result as the certain precursor of 
the speedy flight of the whole rebel army. But her triumph was 
of short duration ; for, almost the next moment, the discomfited 
party, in conjunction with the band of their associates, to whose 
covert they had retreated, sallied out, and, returning impetuously 
to the charge, sent a fatal shower of bullets into the huddled 
ranks of the unprepared tories, and soon routed them entirely 
from the woods, from which they were seen flying, in wild dis¬ 
order, towards the encampment. The rallying wife of the whig 
now, in turn, broke out in retaliatory exclamations of joy and ex¬ 
ultation. But her triumphs, also, were destined to be cut short 
as speedily as those of her equally thoughtless sister, but in a dif¬ 
ferent, and far more sorrowful manner. 

A man, bearing the lifeless body of one of the slain on his 
shoulders, now emerged into view, and came hurriedly stagger¬ 
ing along over the field, directly towards the house. The instant 
the careless eye of the elated Martha fell on the approaching 
figure, it became fixed as if enchained by a spell. The half- 
uttered word she was speaking suddenly died on her faltering 
tongue. An instinctive shudder seemed to run over her; and, 
for nearly a minute, she stood gazing in motionless silence. 

“ What is that ? O ! what is that ? ” at length burst sharply 
from her blanched lips. 

But no one answered; and she again relapsed into the same 
ominous silence, and continued gazing with the same burning 
intensity, till the man, with a look of conscience-smitten agony, 
came up, and laying down his burden on the grass, gently turned 
12 * 


138 


THE RANGERS, 


it over, and presented to her the face of her slain husband; when 
shriek after shriek broke, in quick and startling succession, from 
her convulsed bosom, and she was carried, in a state of wild 
and fearful frenzy, into the house. The homicide was the tory 
husband, who, having met his victim in the fight, and acting, as 
he averred, under an irresistible impulse, had singled out and 
slain one, whom, the next moment, he would have given worlds 
to have been able to bring to life.* 

The scattered forces of the sky now again began to collect, 
the rain to descend, and the angry winds to roar through the sur¬ 
rounding forest, compelling both the assailed and assailants to 
retire from the fields and woods to their respective places of ren¬ 
dezvous for shelter. And soon night closed over the scene, and 
shrouded every object from view with its Egyptian darkness. 

Widely different were the feelings and impressions which the 
events of that afternoon had imparted to the troops of the two 
opposing armies. The advantages gained, though not very im¬ 
portant or decisive, had yet been almost wholly on the side of the 
Americans. Their different parties of scouts and skirmishers, 
who, with the first slackening of the storm, had filled the woods 
in every direction around the British encampment, had slain or 
disabled, in the various encounters of the day, more than thirty 
of their <v.pponents, and, among them, two Indian chiefs, whose 
destruction caused a rejoicing proportioned to the exasperation 
which their presence here had occasioned. And the effect 
of the whole had been to banish the last remaining doubts 
of success from their bosoms, and make them long for the hour 
when they should be permitted to meet the foe in regular battle. 
The losses and defeats of the royal forces, on the other hand, had 
proportionally depressed their feelings, and filled them with dark 
forebodings of the fate which was in store for them. Nor did 
these feelings, in conjunction with the natural effect of the gloom 
and physical discomforts of their situation, long fail of a charac¬ 
teristic manifestation among the contrasted bands of that fated 
army. And strange and fearful were the sights and sounds which 
their encampment exhibited during the night of storm and dark¬ 
ness that followed. The sullen oaths and outlandish grumbling 
of the Germans, delving and splashing away at their unfinished 


* The scene here introduced is drawn from an incident belonging to the 
local history of the battle of Bennington, and is but one among the many 
Bad and touching occurrences which tradition has preserved as connected 
with that memorable conflict. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


139 


intrenv ments, — the noisy execrations of the exasperated tories, 
moving restlessly about from tent to tent, and swearing revenge 
for the losses, — the sputtering of the Canadians, — the frightful 
whoopi g of the discontented savages, as their dark forms^were 
seen d& ting about in the flickering light of their camp fires, and, 
finally, he groans and blaspheming curses of the poor wretches 
who ha,'* been wounded in the skirmishes of the day, all mingling 
with the wailing of the wind, and the ceaseless pattering of the 
rain, co nhined to form a scene as wild and dismal as language 
could well paint, or even imagination conceive, and throw over 
this devoted spot of earth more of the air of the regions of the 
damned, than of the abodes of human beings. 

But what,'in the mean while, were the thoughts and sensations 
of the hapless maiden, whose fate and fortune seemed to have 
become so strangely involved in the movements and scenes we 
have been describing ? To her the day had been but a varying 
scene of gloom and wretchedness — of maidenly terror and pain¬ 
ful excitement. And night had come only to be made still more 
hideous by its accumulated horrors. Shuddering at the strange 
and appalling sounds, that constantly assailed her recoiling senses 
from without, and pained and distressed at the ceaseless wail¬ 
ing of the bereaved and heart-broken wife within — often startled 
and alarmed at the noisy intrusions of the heartless tories in the 
room below, and their frequent threats, and even occasional at¬ 
tempts to get into her apartment above, and tortured by the anxi¬ 
eties, suspense, and apprehension she felt respecting the fate for 
which she might be reserved, independent of the more immedi¬ 
ately-menaced evils around her, she lay, hour after hour, during 
the first watches of that fearful night, tremblingly clinging to her 
less-troubled companion, and earnestly praying for death, or the 
approach of morning, to relieve her from some of the horrors 
of her situation. But at length her exhausted system yielded to 
the requirements of nature, and her senses became locked, and 
her cares lost, in the forgetfulness of slumber. 

She and her attendant were awakened, the next morning, by 
the reveille of the clangorous brass drums of the Hessians, and 
the mingling hum of the stirring camp around them. Attiring 
themselves with that haste which, whether required or not, is usu¬ 
ally consequent on a state of great anxiety, they ran to the win¬ 
dow and -glanced out over the landscape. But what a contrast 
with what it yesterday presented ! The black storm-cloud, that 
had so closely brooded over the earth, had been rolled away, and tho 
cerulean vault above was as calm and cloudless as if storm and 


140 


THE RANGERS, 


tempest had never disfigured its beautiful expanse. The air was 
full of balmy sweetness; and soon the golden sun, slowly mount¬ 
ing over the eastern hills, poured down his floods of light upon 
the varigated landscape, transforming the still-weeping forest into 
a sea of glittering diamonds, converting the hitherto unnoticed 
openings on the surrounding hill-sides into bright spots of smiling 
verdure, and adding a brighter tint to the yellow fields of waving 
grain, that stood ripening in the valley, soon to be trod and tram¬ 
pled by other than peaceful reapers’ feet: — 

For here, far other harvest here 

Than that which peasant’s scythe demands, 

^ Was gathered in by sterner hands, 

With musket, blade, and spear.’/ 

Slowly rolled the bright hours of that calm and beautiful morn¬ 
ing away, as Miss Haviland, with her attendant, sat by the win¬ 
dow, often and axiously glancing along the road to the east, 
to catch a glimpse of that army, in whose movements all her 
hopes were centred, making its expected advance. But it came 
not. No American — not even a scout or skirmisher — any 
where made his appearance ; and no signs of a battle were visible 
in any quarter, unless they might be gathered from the busy labors 
of the British troops in putting their arms in order, or the unusual 
stillness and the air of anxious suspense that seemed to pervade 
their whole encampment. Noon came ; and still all remained 
quiet as before. That hour, and the next, also, passed away with 
the same ominous stillness; and the desponding girl began seri¬ 
ously to fear, that the Americans had indeed retreated from the 
vicinity, and left her and the country alike at the mercy of the 
foe. But just as this depressing thought was taking possession 
of her mind, a sound reached her ears from afar, that caused her 
suddenly to start to her feet with a look of joy and animation that, 
for weeks, had been a stranger to her countenance. 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


141 


CHAPTER XIII. 


“ Death to him who forges 
Fetters, fetters for ttie free ! ” — Eastman. 


Did you hear that ? ” exclaimed the maiden, with flushed 
cheek and kindling eye. 

“ Hear what ? ” asked her surprised and wondering com¬ 
panion, who had heard no'thing to warrant so sudden a change in 
the other’s demeanor. 

“ That sound from the forest yonder,” answered Sabrey, 
pointing over to the wood bordering the opening to the south. 
“But hush! listen I it may be repeated. There — didn’t you 
hear it then ? ” 

“ I heard nothing but the hooting of an old owl over there 
What do you make out of that ? ” responded Vine, still surprised 
and doubtful. 

“ I make much out of it: but let us listen further,” answered 
the other. 

They did so ; and presently the same slow, solemn hoot of 
the bird just named rose more loud and distinct than before. 
And scarcely had the last sound died away in its peculiar 
melancholy cadence, when the solitary report of a musket 
sent its echoing peal over the valley from the forest in the op¬ 
posite direction. 

“ There! the story is told,” exclaimed Sabrey, exultingly. 
“ Three hoots of the owl is the secret watchword of the 
Rangers. The admirable imitation we have just heard was doubt¬ 
less given by him who communicated to me this fact, and gave 
me a specimen of his faculty of making the sound as we were 
coming through the woods in our recent flight. It here shows, un¬ 
less I greatly err, that his regiment is passing round to the rear of the 
enemy; while the gun we have just heard must proceed, I think, 
from some other force going round through the woods on the 
opposite side, — these sounds being a concerted interchange of 
signals to apprise each other and General Stark of the progress 
they have made towards the appointed station. In fifteen minutes, 
this camp may discover itself surrounded and assailed on all 




142 


THE RAxXGERS, 


sides by men who know what they are fighting for. Then, 
Vine, then comes the struggle we have been praying to witness. 
O, may Heaven prosper the defenders of their homes, and enable 
them to triumph over their haughty foes.” 

The conjectures of Miss Haviland respecting the plan of attack 
which the Americans had adopted were well founded. Colonel 
Herrick, with his brave and spirited regiment of Rangers, had been 
despatched through the woods to the rear of the enemy, where 
he was to be joined by nearly an equal force of militia, under the 
command of Colonel Nichols, coming through the forest, also, in 
an opposite direction ; while the remaining and larger portion of 
the army was to advance in front, in time to commence with the 
former t.ie general attack. And, in a short time, the long, deep 
roll of drums, swelling louder and louder on the breeze, an¬ 
nounced that Stark, with the main body, was in motion, and 
rapidly approaching along the road from the east. 

Quickly every part of the British camp was in lively commo¬ 
tion. And the hasty mounting of field-officers, the flying of the 
scattered troops to their respective standards, the furious beating 
of the drums to arms, and the deep, stern words of command, 
mingling with the rattling of steel, and other sounds of hostile 
preparation, all plainly told that they were at length aroused to 
the conviction that their opponents in front were coming down 
in full force upon their encampment; and that something more 
might now be required to insure their safety, than the empty 
vaunting, and the supposed intimidating display, of British uni¬ 
forms and brass cannon, which had thus far marked the expedi¬ 
tion, and constituted its only achievements. And scarcely had 
the 'different divisions of their motley army become arrayed and 
fixed in their line of battle, which consisted of the regulars 
within their strong field-works on the elevated plain on the left, 
and the Canadians and tories behind their more imperfect de¬ 
fences stretching from the former across the meadow on the right 
— scarcely had this been done, before their line of pickets, which 
had been placed among the trees at the eastern termination of 
the field, suddenly broke from their station, and came disorderly 
rushing back to the encampment. Presently a dark body of men 
in motion began to be perceptible through the openings of the 
wood along the line of the winding road ; and, in a moment 
more, Stark’s noble little brigade of sturdy and resolute peasant 
warriors came pouring into the field. 

Wheeling in beautiful order into battle array, they came to a 
halt in the open plain near the border of the woods. Stark, then 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


143 


advancing, rode slowly along the front of the line, and, at length 
pausing, ran his practised eye collectedly over the firmly-standing 
ranks and dauntless faces before him ; when, raising his massive 
form to its full length, he raised his glittering sword, and pointed 
to the hostile lines. 

^ “ Yonder, my men,” he said, in a voice whose clear, deep, and 
ringing tones, in the stillness which at-the moment prevailed, dis¬ 
tinctly reached the attent organs of our fair listeners — “ yonder, 
my brave men, stand the red-coats, your own and your coun¬ 
try’s foe — their army a mongrel crew of Hessian hirelings, 
fighting for eight-pence a day, or thereabouts; of tories, who 
come to ravage and enslave the land that gave them birth ; and 
lastly, of Indians, dreaming of scalps and plunder ! Are you not 
better men ? Have you not nobler objects ? Call you not your¬ 
selves freemen, with hearts to defend your homes and country ? 
If so, then let your deeds this day prove it to the world ! As for 
myself, my resolution is taken, — the field and foe is ours by set 
of sun, or Molly Stark this night will sleep a widow.” 

Three hearty cheers, bursting spontaneously from the listening 
ranks before him, told the gratified leader that he had not over¬ 
rated the spirit and enthusiasm of the men to whom his brief but 
effective appeal had been addressed. 

The British forces, in the mean time, awaited the approach of 
their opponents in silence. Baum even forebore to open upori 
them with his cannon, in the delusive hope that they would prove 
to be one of the large bodies of friendly inhabitants, who, he had 
been assured, would rise up in arms to join his standard as he 
advanced into the interior. His suspense, however, was soon 
ended. A scattering volley of musketry, followed by a distant 
shout, rose from the woods in rear of the station occupied by the 
Indians. And suddenly the whole body of the savages, contrary 
to their usual custom, quitted the woods, and came rushing into 
the camp of their allies with manifestations of the greatest sur¬ 
prise and dismay. The next moment, Herrick, at the head of his 
long files of Rangers, emerged into the open field, rapidly formed 
them into column, and advanced towards the rear of the enemy’s 
intrenchments; while, at the same time, Nichols and his corps 
were seen approaching from the forest in an opposite direction, to 
form the contemplated junction, and move on with the former to 
the combined assault. The moment the Indians obtained a view 
of both these forces, and perceived they were converging to¬ 
gether so as to form a continuous line of battle along the rear, 
they began to manifest the greatest uneasiness and alarm. And 


144 


THE RANGERS, 


their innate dread of being surrounded soon becoming too strong 
for the restraints of discipline, they broke from their position, and, 
like a flock of wild horses, commenced a tumultuous flight across 
the field towards the woods in open space between the two ap¬ 
proaching forces of their opponents, who, quickly changing 
fronts, poured in upon them a rapid succession of destructive 
volleys. A fierce shout now burst from the ranks of the assail¬ 
ants ; and, when the smoke rose, a line of dark, lifeless forms 
marked the green field nearly to the woods ; others were seen 
crawling, like wounded reptiles, to the nearest coverts ; while all 
the rest of the savage foe had disappeared forever from the 
field. Herrick and Nichols having now resumed their march, 
and Stark put his corps in motion, the three divisions, with two 
small flanking detachments, despatched along the woods to the 
right and left of the main body, all moved steadily on to the 
different points of attack. They were not permitted, however, 
to advance far unmolested; for suddenly every part of the 
royal lines became wrapped in clouds of mingling smoke and 
flame j while the heavens and earth seemed rent by the deaf¬ 
ening crash of exploding muskets, and the jarring concussions 
of .cannon, which instantly followed. Unmoved, however, by 
the tremendous outbreak, the American forces all moved steadily 
and rapidly forward till the forms of their opponents could be 
discerned beneath the lifting smoke, when they poured in a 
storm of fire and lead which told with dreadful effect on the 
shrinking lines before them. The general fire thus fatally de¬ 
livered was speedily returned; and the battle now commencing 
in fearful ea.rnest in every part of the field, both armies became 
so deeply concealed in the whirling clouds of smoke, which 
enveloped them, that the opposing forces could be distin¬ 
guished only in the fierce gleams of musketry and the broader 
blaze of cannon that burst incessantly along the lines, filling, 
with the mingled uproar of a thousand thunders, the rocking 
valley and reverberating mountains around. 

In the mean while, our heroine and her companion, who, at the 
first shock of this terrible onset, had shrunk back in consterna¬ 
tion from view of the scene, sat listening on their humble couch 
to the fearful din that assailed their recoiling senses in every 
direction around them from without, with feelings which can be 
far more easily imagined than described. For more than an 
hour, while the battle continued to rage with increasing violence, 
and showers of bullets were heard every moment striking and 
burying themselves in the logs composing the walls of their seem- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


145 


<5evoted shelter, the amazed and trembling girls remained 
in the same position, dreading to look out upon the field, lest their 
eyes should be greeted with the sight of the death and carnage 
which they full well knew must there be going on to.a fearful ex¬ 
tent among both friends and foes. But Sabrey’s increasing 
anxiety for the result, at length, mastering all other considera¬ 
tions, she arose, and, against the remonstrances of her compan¬ 
ion, advanced towards the window. 

“ How awful! ” she exclaimed, as she glanced out on the 
terrific conflict. 

“ Too awful to witness, unless there were some use in so do¬ 
ing,” responded Vine. “ If we were permitted to mingle in the 
fight with our friends, I, for one, would be willing to brave all 
the horrors of the battle for the good I might do; but, as this 
cannot be, why should we expose ourselves to danger so useless¬ 
ly ? Now, I do entreat you, Sabrey, to venture no farther, she 
continued,” as the former, reaching the window, leaned forward 
for a full view of the scene. “ Step back from that dangerous 
spot; don’t you hear the bullets rattling, like hail, round the 
building ? ” 

“ Yes, but there is no danger where I stand, I presume ; but 
if there were, I could no longer forbear watching the issue of a 
contest in which my own fate, as well as that of friends, is so 
deeply involved,” replied Sabrey, with desperate calmness, as 
she continued to rivet her gaze on the field below. 

“ If you will look, then,” said the other, “ tell me what you 
see going on.” 

“I will,” answered the former, “ as far as I can distinguish any 
movements. But, at present, both sides are so completely con¬ 
cealed in the smoke that enshrouds them, that I can only discern 
dark forms in active motion along the lines, as the blaze of their 
fire-arms reveals portions of their ranks. The struggle, however, 
is evidently a dreadful one ! In that continued, deafening crash 
which you hear, flames and smoke seem to be vomited forth 
from the earth, as if from the mouth of a volcano.” 

“ There seems to be less firing now,” observed Vine, after 
listening in silence a few minutes. “ Can you perceive any new 
movements afoot ? Can’t you distinguish any of the words of 
command, or any thing that is said among that uproar of voices, 
which, between the booming of the cannon, once in a while, 
plainly reaches my ears .? ” 

“ Ay,” returned the other, intently bending her ear towards 
the scene of action — “ ay, I think I can, now. Hark ! I hear 
VOL. II 13 



-46 


THE RANGERS, 


one voice in particular, rising loud over all others; but it is the 
voice of one in prayer, invoking the God of battles to strike with 
the free, and aid in bringing down quick destruction on their foes. 
How mightily he cries to Heaven for succor and success! ” 

“ Where is he ? among the rest in the fight ? ” 

“ No, not directly in the battle, I should think, but a little 
aloof, in the rear of this end of the American lines. There ! 
I can now distinguish his form coming obliquely out of the 
smoke in this direction.” 

“ Who is he ? ” 

“ I know not; but he seems a venerable old man, and his long, 
white locks are streaming in the wind, as, with a grasped musket 
in his hands, and the cry of The sioord of the Lord and Gideon 
on his lips, he rushes towards the foe.” 

“ What! to encounter them alone ? ” 

“ Yes, alone, and in advance of all others. Now he takes his 
stand in front of a group of tories partially concealed by the 
bushes on the bank of the stream. There ! he raises his gun, 
and crying, God have mercy on your soul, fires, and his victim 
pitches headlong to the ground. They return his fire, but harm 
him not; and he again raises his gun, and, with the same prayer 
for mercy on the soul of the foeman he has singled out, fires, 
and another tory falls heavily to the earth. Mercy ! they are 
now rushing forward to slay the old man! But now they are 
met by a party of the Americans, running forward with shouts. 
For the rescue of Father Herriot ! Both sides fire ; and again 
all are enveloped in the cloud of smoke that rolls over them.” 

“ Father Herriot — Father Herriot,” said Vine, musingly. 
“ I have heard a great deal said about one they call Father 
Herriot, lately ; but can he be here fighting } ” 

“ Why, who and what is he, that he should not be here } ” 
asked the other. 

“A sort of preacher, I believe,” answered Vine, “but rich 
enough to have bought several large tory estates; though where 
he came from, or how he got so much hard money as he seems 
to have, nobody can tell.” 

A fresh and general outbreak between the opposing lines here 
interrupted the conversation, and turned Sabrey’s attention again 
to the field. And for nearly another fearful hour did she keep 
her stand at the window, heedless of the danger from the bullets 
which were whistling round her head, and unable, in the ago¬ 
nizing anxiety she felt for the result, to withdraw her eyes from 
that dread field, where the continued thunders of the artillery 


oil THE TORV^'S DAUGHTER. 


147 


and musketry, shaking the solid earth along the line ot conflict, 
proclaimed the battle to be still raging with unabated fury. 

At length, a brisk breeze sprang up in the north-west, and the 
battle cloud rolled heavily away before it from the field, dis¬ 
closing, not only the relative positions of the opposing forces, but 
the awful picture of carnage that every where strewed the black¬ 
ened earth. Mutually anxious to avail themselves of this oppor¬ 
tunity to ascertain each other’s situation, both parties at once 
suspended operations, for the purpose of obtaining observations 
which should enable them to resume the battle with more deadly 
effect. The deafening roar of musketry which, for nearly two 
hours, had shaken the embattled plain like one continued peal of 
thunder, was now heard rolling away, in dying echoes, among the 
far-off hills, leaving only the monotonous din of the martial 
music, kept up to drown the cries of the wounded, and the heavy 
booming of Baum’s artillery, that still maintained its regular 
fire on the hill, though only to send — as it now became evident 
it had done from the first— its iron missiles high and harmlessly 
over the heads of the Americans, into the tops of the crashing 
forest beyond. 

“ Is the battle over.? ” asked Vine, as the noise of fire-arms 
thus subsided. 

«No — that is, I conclude not,” hesitatingly answered the 
other, still more closely rivetting her anxious gaze on the unfold 
ing scene before her. “ No, I think not — I trust not; for the 
British yet remain unconquered.” 

“ Can you see them now .? ” 

“ Yes I the wind is driving away the smoke, and both armies 
are now fast becoming visible.” 

“ Do our men maintain their ground-.? P 

“Ay, and more. They have advanced almost to the hostile 
intrenchments ; and there they stand face to face with their foes; 
and with ranks less thinned, thank Heaven, than I should think 
possible after withstanding so long the dreadful fire to which they 
have been exposed ; though I can distinguish the forms of many 
poor fellows stretched upon the earth.” 

“And have not the ranks of the enemy suffered also .? ” 

“ Severely, it is evident. The ground along their lines as far 
as I can see, and especially that part opposite to the station occupied 
by the Rangers, whom I can distinguish by their green uniform, 
is thickly strown with the bodies of the slain. And if our men 
could see the destruction they have caused behind those intrench¬ 
ments to encourage them ! But stay ! what means that commo¬ 
tion ? Can it be .? Heaven forbid 1 But it is so. They fly! ” 


148 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Who fly ? ” eagerly demanded Vine. 

“ The Americans — Stark’s division — and all is lost, when one 
more effort might have given them the victory ! O that they 
could but know the advantages they have gained ! If my feeble 
voice could but reach them, I would rush out and raise it, though 
1 perished in the attempt! ” rapidly exclaimed the heroic girl, 
agonized at the thought that her countrymen were actually retreat¬ 
ing from a field she believed so nearly won. “ Ay, and who 
knows but I might be heard, or, at least, understood ? ” she added, 
glancing hurriedly through the window to the grounds round the 
house, to see what might be there to prevent her from trying to 
put her half-formed resolution into execution. 

In looking out, with this object, her eye fell on the rude portico 
running along that side of the house, the narrow, flat roof of which 
rose within a few feet of her window. And, suddenly changing her 
purpose, she hastily tore out the fastenings of the window, removed 
the sashes, and leaped down to the roof of the portico, and stood in 
open view of the greater partion of both armies. But still regardless 
of her exposure, she advanced to the verge of the roof, and, turning 
towards the Americans, waved high her kerchief, and essayed to 
lift her voice over the tumult, in words which, she hoped, would 
catch their attention and arrest their supposed flight. But the 
Americans, who had only fallen back a short distance to avoid 
the now unobstructed aim of the enemy, and prepare for a fresh 
onset, had already come to a stand, but were at first too busily 
engaged in loading their guns, and watching the motions of their 
foes, to observe her. The tories, however, whose forces were posted 
in the more immediate vicinity, instantly noted her appearance, 
and pointed her out to their officers, who, at once, appeared to 
read her intentions. And the next moment Colonel Peters, now 
for the first time presenting himself to her sight since her recap¬ 
ture, rode up ; and, with a countenance flushed with suppressed 
passion, commanded" her to retire within the house. A look of 
ineffable scorn was the only reply the maiden vouchsafed to give 
him, while she redoubled her exertions to attract the attention of 
his opponents. Stung by this public exhibition of her disdain, 
and defiance of his commands, the tory chief hastily raised a 
pistol towards her, and, in a fierce and menacing tone, demanded 
an immediate compliance with his orders. 

“ God have mercy on your soul! ” was at that instant heard 
issuing from a covert near the American lines, in the well-known 
voice of Father Herriot. With the exclamation came the report 
of a musket, and at the same time a bullet struck and shattered 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


149 


in his hand the raised pistol of the dastardly Peters, who, casting 
away the remnant of the weapon to which he had been indebted 
only for his life, hastily wheeled and galloped back to his post, 
barely escaping the shower of balls that, as he had rightly antici¬ 
pated, was sent after him from the nearest of his foes. 

But although the maiden had failed at the onset to attract the 
attention of the Americans by her attempt, as she had designed, 
yet the incident, to which the bold step she had taken gave rise, 
more effectually subserved her purpose. The firing had at once 
drawn all eyes to the spot. Presently the low hum of questioning 
voices was heard running through the American lines, while many 
an uplifted hand was seen pointing to her conspicuous form, as, 
still undeterred from her purpose, she stood waving her signal 
kerchief towards them. And the next moment the loud and cheer¬ 
ing cry. Forward^ to the rescue of the Tory's Daughter ! burst 
from the Rangers, and was speedily caught up and echoed in 
lively acclamations, from detachment to detachment, through the 
whole encircling lines of the assailing army, which, with one im¬ 
pulse, now threw itself forward towards the foe. And, unmoved 
by the tremendous but hasty and misdirected fire that every where 
met them on the way, they swept onward like an avalanche to 
the very foot of the tory intrenchments; when, pausing only to 
pour in thefr devouring volleys, they mounted the works, and, 
raising their clubbed muskets, dashed down, with shouts of defi¬ 
ance, upon the recoiling ranks of the amazed and panic-stricken 
foe, who, unable to withstand the force and fury of the onset, 
instantly gave way and threw down their arms, or scattered and 
fled in every direction. 

Astonished and alarmed at beholding all his outworks so sud¬ 
denly and unexpectedly stormed and carried, Baum seemed 
immediately to have resolved on a desperate effort to retrieve the 
fortunes of the day. And in a few minutes he was seen at the 
head of a long column of his grenadiers, issuing from his intrench¬ 
ments on the hill, and bearing down with hasty step on the assail¬ 
ing forces below. But the next moment, that imposing column, 
with its luckless leader, disappeared before the enfilading fire of 
the death-dealing Rangers, like frost-work before the breath of a 
furnace ; while, nearly at the same time, an upleaping cloud of 
smoke and flame, followed by the shock of an exploding ammunition 
wagon within the principal works, completed the only signal of 
encouragement that was wanted by the already flushed assailants 
to decide them on an immediate attempt for the completion of 
their triumph. And before the dull roar of the explosion was lost 
13 ^ 


150 


THE RANGERS, 


among the echoing hills, the deep-toned voice of the intrepid 
Stark, ever eagle-eyed to see, and prompt to seize, an advantage, 
was heard rising over the tumult, in ordering the final assault, 
which, having leaped from his horse, and sprung forward to the 
head of a forming column, he was the next moment seen, with the 
air of a roused lion, leading on in person. In one minute more, 
all the various forces, not required to guard the prisoners already 
taken, were in motion, and, with flashing eyes, and rapid, deter¬ 
mined tread, charging up the ascending grounds towards the dif¬ 
ferent sides of the doomed redoubt; in another, they were furiously 
rushing over the embankments, and pouring their bristling columns 
in resistless streams down upon the weakened and dismayed forces 
of the Germans and British in the enclosure. Then succeeded 
the rapid, scattering reports of pistols and musketry, the sounds 
of fiercely-clashing steel, and the wild cries of those struggling 
hand to hand in deadly contest, and the wilder shrieks of the 
wounded, all rising in mingled uproar from the spot. Then all 
was hushed in a momentary stillness ; and then rose the long, loud 
shout of a thousand uniting voices, pealing forth to the heavens the 
exulting acclamations of victory ! 


OR THE, Tory’s daughter. 


151 


t 

CHAPTER XIV. . 


“ The strife, that for a while did fail, 

Now trebly thundering, swelled the gale.” — Scott. 


Like the rapidly-flitting scenes of some dioramic exhibition 
passed the crowding events of the next half hour before the half- 
bewildered senses of our heroine. The sudden appearance of 
Woodburn in the now deserted yard of her prison-house, whither, 
the moment the battle was won, he had hastened, with the usual 
anxiety of the lover made intense by the distracting fear that she 
might have'been carried off by the escaping tories, — his eager 
inquiries for her presence and safety, — her own involuntary 
but silent response to his calls, by rushing out to meet him, and 
placing herself under his coveted protection, — the hurried con¬ 
gratulations that passed between them, — the complimentary 
greetings of the gallant hero of the day, and other distinguished 
persons soon gathering around her and her fair companion, as 
they stood shrinking from the admiration and applause which the 
conduct of one, and the position of both, had called forth from 
the lips of all, — their welcome escape from the embarrassing 
scene, in a carriage, under the guidance of Bart, to whom they 
were given in charge by Woodburn, as he hastily departed, at the 
head of a chosen band of followers, in pursuit of Peters, and a 
I body of tories that were discovered to have escaped, — the pas- 
I sage of the vehicle through the contested field, ploughed up by 
artillery, blackened by the fire and smoke of battle, and strewed 
: with the dying and the dead, among whom the busy groups of the 
■ dismissed soldiery were every where scattered in pursuit of their 
different objects — here to collect plunder from their slain ene- 
j mies, and there to minister to the wounded, or search among the 
I fallen for missing comrades, — all these followed so rapidly upon 
j a victory, the sudden announcement of which had nearly over- 
I powered her with joyful surprise, that it was not till she and her 
i companion had passed beyond the confines of the battle-field, and 
i entered upon the.comparatively solitary road leading towards the 
! village of Bennington, to which they were now directing their 
I course, that she could realize her happy deliverance. Then, for 
the first time during that terrible day, the woman in her prevailed, 




152 


THE RANGERS, 


and she melted into tears. But they were the tears of joy and 
gratitude, that she and her native land, whose immediate fate had 
so singularly become interwoven with her own, had alike been 
permitted to triumph. We must, however, leave her and her 
friend to indulge their overflowing feelings, and listen to the re¬ 
citals of the no less happy Bart, who had been in the hottest of the 
fight, while they pursue their unmolested way to their present 
destination — we must now leave them, and return once more to 
the field of battle, where the dismissed troops were still busily 
engaged in gathering up the trophies of war, preparing refresh¬ 
ments, and exulting over the glorious result of the conflict, little 
dreaming of any further appearance of the enemy after so signal 
a defeat. 

But hark! What means that heavy firing which suddenly 
comes echoing over the forest from the west ? Does it portend 
only some skirmish on the line of the retreat, where a portion 
of the foe have come to a stand to shield the rest, or favor their 
escape ? No ; it is the booming of the deep-mouthed cannon, 
and not those of the defeated forces ; for they have left all theirs 
behind them. While every eye and ear, through the hushed field, 
were turned in anxious perplexity towards the ominous sounds, a 
horseman came dashing at full speed along the wood-begirt road 
from thjjt direction, loudly proclaiming, as he drew near, the 
startling intelligence, that the broken and flying bands of the 
enemy had been met and rallied by a reenforcement of five hun¬ 
dred fresh veteran troops, well supplied with artillery; and the 
whole, making a more formidable army than the first, and evi¬ 
dently resolved to retrieve the lost credit of the day, and revenge 
themselves on the victors, were rapidly approaching, and within 
two miles of the place ! 

The next moment the loud and quickly repeated cry of “ To 
arms! to arms!” rang far and wide over the field. Then fol¬ 
lowed the rapid roll of the alarm drums, the rattling of hastily- 
grasped muskets, the trampling of hurrying feet, and the con¬ 
fused clamor of voices; while the scattered and commingling 
bands of the surprised troops were seen throwing down their 
plunder, or leaving the half-partaken meal, and flying, in all 
directions, to their respective rallying points, to be ready to meet 
the menaced onset, and die, or keep the field they had so glori¬ 
ously won. But notwithstanding the spirit and alacrity with 
which the troops responded to the call, so rapid was the advance 
of the enemy, that, before Stark, with all his energy, could col¬ 
lect much more than half his former forces, refit them with am- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


153 


munition, and bring them into line, the British, led on by the cool 
and experienced Breyman, and driving before them the detach¬ 
ment of Americans sent in pursuit of the fugitives, came pouring 
into the field ; and, immediately throwing themselves into battle 
array, opened a tremendous fire, with cannon and small arms, 
upon the half-formed lines of their opponents, gathering to dis¬ 
pute their passage in front. The Americans returned the fire, 
which, though partial and irregular, was yet so well directed as to 
put a temporary check upon the advance of the foe. But the 
latter, seeing the unprepared condition of the former, and be¬ 
coming confident of an easy victory, were soon again upon the 
advance; while Stark, destroying the breastworks that had shel¬ 
tered the foe in the first action, as far as tlie time would permit, 
and dragging the captured cannon along with him, slowly fell 
back, continuing to make his dispositions, and pour, from time to 
time, as he went, his well-aimed volleys upon the thinning ranks 
of his pursuers. At length, however, he took his stand, resolved, 
in despite of all his disadvantages, to make a final and desperate 
effort to regain the lost mastery of the field. But closer and 
closer pressed the exulting and determined foe ; and, although 
well and bravely did his weakened and exhausted men repel the 
fierce charges of their assailants, yet it soon became evident that 
they could not long withstand the repeated assaults of those heavy 
ani disciplined columns upon their unequal lines. Both the men 
and' their officers began to exchange doubtful and despait^g 
glances ; and even their bold and unyielding chief was seen to 
look uneasily around him. But at that critical juncture, when 
the fate of the free seemed trembling doubtfully in the balance, 
an inspiring shout rose from the copse-wood bordering the road in 
the rear. And the next moment, the far-famed regiment of Green 
Mountain Boys, whose earlier arrival had been prevented by the 
storm of the preceding day, emerged into view; and, led on by 
the chivalrous Warner on his fiery charger, that w^ould know no 
other rider,* advanced with rapid and resolute tread directly to 
the scene of action. 

“ Warm work, warm work here. Colonel Warner,” said Stark, 
as the other dashed up to his side for his orders. 


* It may be interesting, to the antiquarian at least, to learn that the 
splendid war-horse, which Warner was known to have rode in all his 
battles, could neither be mounted nor managed by any except the colonel 
and his son, then a lad of sixteen or seventeen, who attended his father 
in the service mainly on that account. This fact I have from the lips of 
Colonel W.’s second son, now living in Lower Canada. 



154 


THE RANGERS, 


“ Ay, general; but we will make it still warmer for the Ked- 
coats, at least, if you will give us a chance at them in front of 
your line,” promptly responded the gallant officer. 

“ That chance you shall have, with the thanks of my exhausted 
troops, to whom, and myself, your presence, at this time, my 
brave friend, could scarcely be more welcome,” said Stark, with 
a frankness and cordiality of manner which attested the pleasure 
he felt at the other’s timely arrival. 

“Thank you — thank you, general,” replied Warner, gal¬ 
loping back to his regiment, and commanding their atten¬ 
tion. 

“ Soldiers,” he exclaimed, in his clear, trumpet tones, throwing 
back his tall, superb form, and displaying his noble and beauti¬ 
fully-arched brow — “ my brave soldiers, shall this be our battle, 
and our victory } ” 

A deafening cheer was the affirmative response. 

“ In God’s name, on, then ! ” he resumed, in a voice of thun¬ 
der— “on, and avenge yourselves for country’s wrongs, and 
for your flogging at Hubbardton.” 

In eager obedience to the welcome command of their idolized 
leader, who now led the way, with flashing eyes and waving 
sword, they all swept on through the opening ranks of thoir 
loudly-cheering companions in arms, rapidly deployed into line, 
and, the next instant, wrapped themselves in the flame and 
smoke of their own fire, which burst, with an almost single re¬ 
port, into the very faces of the astonished foe, whose ranks went 
down by scores before the leaden blast of that terrible volley. 
A.nd, by the time they had recovered from the shock of the un¬ 
expected assault, the relieved and encouraged forces of Stark, 
now strengthened by the arrival of additional numbers of the 
scattered militia, and formed into new and more effective com¬ 
binations, returned with fresh ardor to the contest. And, as the 
different detachments, moving resolutely on, with-flying colors 
and rattling drums, to the various points of attack assigned them 
in front and around the hostile squares, reached their allotted 
stations, they successively poured in their withering volleys till 
the rebounding plain trembled and shook beneath the tumult and 
thunders of a conflict, to which, in obstinacy and sanguinary 
fierceness, few engagements on record afford “a parallel. On 
one side was discipline, with revenge, the hope of reward, and 
the fear of the disgrace attending defeat, to incite them to action, 
j On the other side, the stake was home and liberty; and these 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


155 


as the trained officers of Europe soon found to their astonishment, 
often more than compensated for the lack of discipline and mili¬ 
tary experience ; for, in contending for a stake of such individual 
moment, every man in the ranks of freedom, though frequently 
wholly untrained, and in battle for the first time in his life, at 
once became a warrior, fighting as if the whole responsibility of 
the issue of the battle rested on his own shoulders. And, in 
every part of the field, deeds were performed by nameless peas¬ 
ants rivalling the most daring exploits of heroes. Here a com¬ 
pany of raw militia might be seen rushing upon a detached 
column of British veterans, firing in their faces, and, for want of 
bayonets, knocking them down with clubbed muskets. There 
old men and boys, with others who, like them, had come unarmed 
and as spectators of the battle, would spring forward after some 
retreating band, seize the muskets of the slain, and engage, muz¬ 
zle to muzzle, with the hated foe. The intrepid Stark, harboring 
no thought but of victory, and as regardless of exposure as the 
unconscious charger that bore him through the leaden storm, was 
every where to be seen ; now heading an onset—now dashing 
off to rouse or rally a faltering column, and now leaping from 
his horse to show his inexperienced men how to load and fire 
the captured cannon ; while Warner and Herrick, fit men to 
second the efforts of such a chief, were constantly storming, like 
raging lions, in the smoke and fire of the hottest of the fight; 
here breasting, with their brave and unflinching regiments, the des¬ 
perate assault, and there, in turn, leading on the resistless charge. 

Thus, with the tide of war alternately surging to and fro, like 
the wild waves of the ocean lashed by contending winds, con¬ 
tinued to rage this fierce and sanguinary conflict, till the sun 
went down in the semblant blood with which the smoke of battle 
had enshrouded him. 

But now, soon an unusual commotion, attended with new 
and rapid movements, was observable among the contending 
forces of the field. Presently an exulting shout rose from the 
American lines; and the enemy were seen at all points to be 
giving way. Their retreat, however, though rapid, was yet, for 
a while, conducted with order ; and they repeatedly turned and 
made desperate efforts to resist the fiery tide that, with gathering 
impetus, was rolling after them. But vain and fruitless were all 
their attempts ; for, while their whole rear was wasting with 
frightful rapidity, under the terrible volleys which were poured 
upon it, in one incessant blaze, by the hotly-pursuing squadrons 
of Stark and Warner, a strong detachment of the heroic Rangers, 


156 


THE RANGERS, 


under the daring lead of the now half-maddened Woodburnt 
rushed forward and fell upon their flank with a fury that threw 
their pierced and staggering columns into such disorder and con¬ 
fusion as to destroy their last indulged hope of escaping in a 
body from their infuriated pursuers. And, the next moment, their 
whole force broke, and, abandoning their cannon and baggage, 
fled in a tumultuous rout from the field, some escaping along 
the road, some yielding themselves prisoners on the way, and 
others, to avoid their outstripping pursuers, seeking refuge in the 
surrounding forest. But neither road, nor field,, nor forest, were 
this time permitted to afford many of them the means of escape, 
or shield them from the harassing pursuit of the exasperated 
Americans, who, in furiously-charging columns, overthrew, shot 
down, or captured, all their broken and flying bands within reach, 
in the road and open grounds, or in small parties, or singly, 
closely followed and boldly encountered them in the woods, 
whose dark recesses soon resounded with the scattering fire, the 
clashing steel, and the hurrying shout, of the pursued and pur-- 
suing combatants. 

But of the scores of promiscuous conflicts and personal en¬ 
counters which marked the finale of this memorable triumph, 
and made so conspicuous the prowess of the heroic men 
by whom it was achieved, it were in vain for us, within our 
limits, to attempt a description. There was one of these encoun¬ 
ters, however, which the approaching development of our story 
requires to bo more particularly noted. And, for this purpose, 
we will now change the scene to a wild glen, far witliin the 
depths of the forest, where, hedged in by an impassable morass 
in front, and steep ledges of rocks on either side, a gang of a 
half dozen of the fugitive tories, headed by an officer in British 
uniform, had turned round with the desperate ferocity of wild 
beasts, to give battle to the indefatigable pursuers, who had fol¬ 
lowed them from the battle-field with a vigilance and speed from 
which there was no escape, and with such demonstrations of 
marksmanship as had already told fatally on nearly half their 
numbers on the way. But those pursuers, as wary as they were 
brave and untiring, with the double object of concealing the in¬ 
equality of their numbers, which were but four, and securing 
the advantages that a choice of positions in all sylvan contests 
especially affords, had instantly fallen back to a line of hastily- 
selected coverts, stretching across the gorge, and had now be¬ 
come wholly invisible to their advancing foes, who soon paused 
in turn, and, shielding themselves behind the bodies of trees, 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


157 


stood eagerly peering out to catch sight of the objects of their aim. 
Suddenly the sharp report of a rifle burst from a bush-covered 
cleft in the rocks nearly abreast of one of the exposed flanks of 
the tories; and the tallest of their number, with a wild start, and 
half-uttered oath, floundered into the bushes and fell. The next 
moment, our old acquaintance, Bart Burt, who, having conveyed 
the ladies to their destination, had sped back to the battle-field 
in time to participate in the last part of the final action, was seen 
stealthily creeping round the point of the ledge, from which the 
fatal shot had issued, and approaching the leader of the concealed 
assailants, who, as the reader may have already anticipated, was 
no other than Captain Woodburn. 

“ Bart,” said the latter, “ you have executed my order as no 
other man could. But whom have you slain ? Not Peters .? ” 

“ No — couldn’t get him in range ; but did as well, though — 
may be better — fixed out the only one whose aim I was ’fraid 
of—the big, fierce-looking whelp that shot father Herriot, in our 
last sally in the field ; the same that made that bullet-hole in 
your coat on the way here ; and the same, too, who would have 
finished me, likely, but for the glancing of his bullet on a bush 
before me. But I have settled all the grudges at a blow, now.” 

“You have done bravely; but did you discover who they 
are — any of them besides the leader, Peters.? ” ^ 

“Yes, two of ’em, who are, as Dunning and Piper surmised, 
Dave Redding and Tiger Fitch, that beauty of a constable, who 
bothered us so in old times, at Guilford. He’s now some kind 
of an officer among ’em, guess ; and, dead or alive. Pm bound to 
have him ; though, if you’ve any particular plan, captain, Pll 
follow it, instead of going round to ’tother ledge for another pick 
of the flock.” 

“ I have one ; and that is, to draw their fire, or most of it, and 
then rush upon them. You may creep on, then, to Dunning and 
Piper, and, with them, contrive and execute some plan to effect 
that object, and I will stand here ready to order, and lead the 
charge, at the favoring moment.” 

Bart now, with the noiseless tread of a cat, rapidly glided 
away into the bushes and disappeared on his errand. In a few 
minutes, the cracking of sticks, as if under the pressure of cau¬ 
tiously moving feet, was heard in a thicket of bushes within full 
range of the guns of the tories, who, now safely ensconced be¬ 
hind the new coverts, to which, in alarm at Bart’s fatal shot, they 
had betaken themselves, instantly turned their attention in that 
direction ; and, levelling their pieces, keenly watched for the 
VOL. II. 14 


158 


THE RANGERS, 


expected exposure of the persons of some of their opponents. Soon, 
the dim outlines of two or three apparently human forms could be 
traced in the thicket, rising up one after another, with the quick, 
hesitating motions of men intent on a stealthy reconnoissance of 
the objects before them. And, the next moment, every tory, but 
one, sent the contents of his gun at these supposed forms of the 
lurking besiegers. But instead of beholding, as they had an¬ 
ticipated, the riddled bodies of the dreaded foe dropping to the 
earth, they soon discovered, to their astonishment and dismay, 
that the empty coats and caps, which the outwitting Eangers had 
raided on their ramrods over their prostrate persons, were the 
only sufferers. 

“ Der— der— der— ditter ready ! ” shouted Dunning, in a 
voice which at last went off like the terminating clap of a rattling 
thunder peal, as he and his two associates leaped, coatless, from 
the ground, to be prepared for the instant execution of the ex¬ 
pected order. 

“ On, then, and suffer not a wretch of tAem to escape you 
alive ! ” exclaimed their impatient leader in reply, dashing for¬ 
ward himself, and leading in the headlong onset which they all 
now made on the foe. 

Taken by complete surprise by this rapid and unexpected 
movement of the assailants, now bursting upon them with cocked 
and levelled rifles, the dismayed tories, at first, made no at¬ 
tempts at escape or resistance ; while part of them threw down 
their half-loaded guns, and stepped out from their coverts. 

“ Surrender at discretion, or take the consequence! ” sternly 
cried Woodburn, pausing within twenty yards of the toiy 
leader. 

“ We are in your power, sir, I suppose,” replied Peters, 
evasively, and in a tone of affected submission,-as, avoiding the 
burning gaze of the other, he threw a significant glance to the 
tory who had reserved his charge at the fruitless fire just made by 
the rest of his party. 

In an instant, the gun of the latter, who still stood behind a 
tree shielding him, as he supposed, from the other Rangers, was 
levelled at Woodburn, whose attention was too intently fixed on 
his chief foe to notice the movement. But before the finger of 
the assassin was permitted to tighten on the trigger, a bullet from 
the unerring rifle of the watchful Dunning had pierced his brain; 
and his gun, as he fell over backwards, exploded harmlessly into 
the air. Three of the tories, however, taking advantage of the 
momentary confusion occasioned by the noise and smoke of the 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


159 


guns, made a desperate spring for the surrounding thickets, and 
succeeded in breaking through the line of their assailants, three 
of whom instantly gave chase, leaving Woodburn to cope alone 
with the rival foe, whom he had vainly sought through the day 
to confront in battle. Peters threw a quick, furtive glance around 
him ; and, for an instant, seemed hesitating whether he should 
attempt to follow the example of the rest of his band ; but an¬ 
other glance at the watchful and menacing eye of his opponent 
gleaming at him over Jhe barrel of the deadly rifle, taught the 
folly of any such attempt, and, throwing down his weapons, he 
said,— 

“ I yield myself a prisoner of war, sir.” 

“A prisoner of war!” exclaimed Woodburn, repeating'the 
words of the other, in a tone of bitter scorn. “ After signifying 
your submission, and then instigating an attempt to shoot me, 
you hope to be received as a prisoner of war, do you ? Villain ! ” 
he added, advancing and presenting the muzzle of his piece 
within a yard of the other’s breast — “ villain, your last claim to 
mercy is forfeited ! ” 

“ You would not slay an unarmed man, and a prisoner, would 
you ? ” said Peters, recoiling, and casting an uneasy glance at his 
opponent. 

“ Yes,” replied the former, with increasing sternness, “ if, 
like you, in defiance of all the rules of war as well as honor, he 
would do the same to me the first moment he had it in his 
power. No submission shields the life of an outlaw from any 
one disposed to take it. But you shall have one minute for 
uttering your last request, if you have any such to make.” 

Being now thoroughly alarmed by the words, as well as the 
'demeanor of his incensed captor, the once haughty loyalist 
fell on his knees, and humbly bes'ought the other to spare his 
life. 

“ Live, then, wretch ! ” said Woodburn, at length moved to 
both pity and contempt by the entreaties and abject manner of 
the former — “ live then, if you choose it, to be dealt with as 
a traitor and a spy, by men who will award you your deserts with 
more coolness, doubtless, than I should have done, but with no less 
certainty.” 

“ O, spare me from that,” pleaded the abased supplicant, with 
redoubled earnestness. “ Kill me on the spot, if you will; but 
spare me from that fate. Allow me to be delivered up as a 
prisoner of war, and I will consent to any thing — yield any 
thing you wish. I will insure you, by my influence at the 


160 


THE RANGERS, 


British camp, any advantage in a future exchange of prisoners 
you may ask ; and-” 

“ Peace, miserable craven ! ” interrupted Woodburn. “ I could 
promise you no exemption, if I would, from a punishment 
which our exasperated people will justly say you have brought 
upon your own head.” 

“ And I will also,” resumed Peters, encouraged by the 
somewhat softened tone, and slightly hesitating manner of the 
other — “I will also relinquish all claims, and forego all inter- 
ference, in matters that may have stood in the way of your 
private interests and wishes.” 

“ I will make no pledges, nor grant, nor receive any terms, at 
your dictation, sir,” said the former, haughtily. 

“ I will trust to your magnanimity to a fallen foe,” then, re¬ 
joined Peters, rightly appreciating, for once, the character of his 
conqueror. “ Here, take this,” he continued, drawing a care¬ 
fully-preserved document from his pocket, and extending it to¬ 
wards the other — “ take it, and deliver it to the one whom it 
most concerns. Tell her it was voluntarily relinquished, and 
that I will trouble her no more.” 

As small as was the measure of credit which Woodburn’s 
judgment told him should be accorded to the motives prompting 
this unexpected course in his old enemy, it nevertheless quickly 
banished every vindictive feeling from his generous bosom; and, 
after a momentary hesitation, he took the profiered document, 
glanced at its contents, and silently deposited it among his other 
papers. But soon growing jealous of himself lest he should 
compromit the policy which his superiors might deem it just and 
wise, under the sanction of the stern rules of war, to enforce, 
he restrained himself from making any immediate reply. And, 
the next moment, he was relieved from what apparent necessity 
there might be for so doing, by the approach of the first of the 
returning Rangers. 

“ Where is your prisoner, Piper } ” he asked, turning to the 
latter, now coming up. 

“ He would not be taken alive, sir; and the order was to let 
none escape in that condition,” replied the broad-chested subaltern, 
with a significant look. 

“ In order, then, that you go not home empty-handed,” re¬ 
joined Woodburn, “ I will give you charge of my prisoner, 
Colonel Peters here, whom you will conduct to Bennington 
Meeting-House, whither the prisoners of the day were ordered, 
and where you will deliver him to the officer in command^ 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


161 


ns a prisoner of war — at least for the present; for any doubti 
that may arise about his final disposal can be settled here* 
after.” 

“ Der well, captain,” exclaimed Dunning, whose tall, gaunt 
form, in the rear of his prisoner, the infamous David Redding, 
whom it had been his lot to capture, was now seen emerging 
from a thicket near by — “ here is one, about whom we shan’t 
be bothered with der doubts, a great while, if his captor can have 
his say.” 

“ Aha! — but what is your say about him, sergeant } ” said 
Woodburn, smiling. 

“ Der well,” replied the other, “ I say, if the ditter devil don’t 
take him from a traitor’s gallows, then we may just as well have 
no devil.” 

“ I shall not be the one to gainsay you in that, sergeant,’ 
responded Woodburn. “ But hark ! what is the uproar yonder ? ” 
he added, pointing out into the woods in a direction from whence 
the sound of an occasional stiff whack! followed by groans, 
curses, and calls for protection, were now heard to issue. 

On turning their eyes towards the spot, the company beheld 
Bart, with his rifle in one hand, and a long beechen switch in the 
other, driving in before him the whilom constable, Fitch, who 
was chafing, like a chained bear, under the lash which his 
catechizing captor was administering every few yards on the 
way. 

“ Why are you so rough with him, Bart ? ” expostulated Wood¬ 
burn, as they came up. 

“Well, captain, I have a reasonable wherefore for it — may 
be,” answered the former, gravely. 

“ What is it } ” asked the other. 

“ Why,” replied the imperturbable Bart, “ perhaps I don’t re¬ 
member, and perhaps I do, how a chap of about my size sat 
sweating near two cool hours, at the sight of an ugly-looking 
bunch of beech rods, that a certain constable had ordered for his 
back. And as ’twas no fault of his that the matter wasn’t carried 
out at the time, and, as I always thought there was a mistake 
made as to the one whose back ought to take it, I felt rather 
bound to have the order executed now, and in a manner to set all 
to rights between us.” 

“ Well, well, boys,” said Woodburn, with a good-humored 
smile, “ you must all be indulged in your notions, I suppose, at 
such a gloriojs hour as this. But you may now be moving 

14 * 


162 


THE RANGERS, 


on with your prisoners to the field, and thence by the road to 
Bennington. Business calls me there by a nearer route, and 
at a quicker pace. You shall find good cheer awaiting your 
arrival.” 

So saying, he struck off rapidly from the rest, and soon disap¬ 
peared in the forest. 


OR THii Tory’s daughter. 


.63 


CHAPTER XV. 


“ Sing it where forests wave,— 
From mountain to the sea, 
And o’er each hero’s grave, — 
Sing, sing, the land is free.” 


It was evening; and all that met the eye was joy and anima¬ 
tion in the little village of Bennington, in which, not only the 
great body of the opposing armies, either as conquerors or pris¬ 
oners, but the best portion of the patriotism, wisdom, and beauty 
of young Vermont, were now congregated. There her statesmen 
and sages — many of whom had mingled in the strife of the day 
— were gathered to rejoice over a result which their own heads, 
and hearts, and hands, through the anxious days and nights of the 
preceding month, had been unceasingly engaged in securing for 
their country and their homes. There, too, the old men and 
striplings, drawn from all the neighboring settlements by the 
ominous sounds which had reached them from the distant battle¬ 
field, and there the maids and matrons, whose solicitude for the 
near and dear ones, supposed to be engaged in the conflict, would 
not permit them to stay behind, were all found mingling with the 
victors, and participating in their exultations. Bright lights were 
streaming from every window, or dancing in every direction in 
the streets; while the smiling faces and animated voices, every 
where seen and heard among the commingling throng, seemed to 
tell only of a scene of universal joy and triumph. But as joyous 
and lively as was the scene, in its predominating features, it was 
yet not without its painful contrasts. The broken sob, or the low 
wail of sorrow, was heard rising sadly on the night air, in every 
interval that occurred in the more boisterous but irrepressible 
manifestations which characterized the hour. And, even in the 
same dwellings, these two contrasted phases in war’s exciting but 
melancholy picture were not unfrequently presented; for, while 
in one room might be heard the notes of joy and exultation, in 
another might be distinguished the stifled groan of some wounded 
soldier, or the lamentations of the bereaved over the body of a 
slain relative. 

Among the most noted of the class last mentioned was the late 




164 


THE RANGERS, 


residence of Esquire Haviland, situated in the outskirts of tha 
village, and recently occupied as the quarters of the officers of the 
Rangers, on the invitation of the patriotic but singular and myste¬ 
rious man, who, at its sale by the commissioners of confiscation, 
had purchased the establishment, among several others of a val- 
nable description thus sold in this section of the counUy. To 
this residence, the scene'of a former portion of our story, we will 
now once more, and for the last time, repair. 

While in one part of the building the officers just named, with other 
distinguished persons, were engaged in discussing the incidents 
of the day, in another and more retired apartment, on a pillowed 
couch, lay the wounded Father Herriot, who, having been stricken 
down in the last moments of the battle, as before intimated, had 
been borne hither to complete the willing sacrifice he had made 
of his life to the cause of his country. On a small table, within 
his reach, lay several documents, which were fresh from the hand 
of that ready writer, the accomplished secretary of the Council 
of Safety, who had just left the apartment. And around his bed 
stood those in whom all his private interests and sympathies had 
been for some time secretly concentrated, though to two of them 
personally unknown till a few hours before, when he had been 
brought in wounded and committed to their care. Those persona 
were Henry Woodburn, Bart Burt, Sabrey Haviland, and Vine 
Howard, who, ignorant of his particular wishes or intentions, and 
wondering why the presence of all of them should be desired at 
the same time, had been summoned to his bedside to hear his last 
communication and receive his blessing. 

“ My prayer is answered,” said Herriot, after looking round 
affectionately a while upon his expectant auditors, who, at his 
request, after the room was cleared of other company, had ad¬ 
vanced to his bedside. “ My last prayer has been to be permitted 
to see all of you, in whose personal welfare 1 have been leds to 
take a peculiar interest, assembled before me while life and rea¬ 
son remained, so that I could commune with you ; and the prayer 
las been graciously answered. Still, when, at the close of our 
first, and, as we all then supposed, final triumph to-day, Miss Hav' 
Hand, with her friend, at my request, was conveyed here to her 
former home, of which I had become the purchaser, I then 
thought to have met you all here this evening under circum¬ 
stances in which I could have actively shared with you in the 
rejoicings that our victory so naturally calls forth, as well as in 
the happiness, which, as far as regards you, I believed I could 
superadd by my own acts. But He who holds the fate of indi- 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


165 


viduals, as well as that of armies, in his hands, has seen fit to 
deny me such participation ; and He doeth all things well.''' 

“ It our wound is not necessarily a mortal one, Father Herriot; 
and I trust you may yet live to enjoy the fruits of a victory you 
have contributed so much by your bravery to win,” observed 
Wood burn, feelingly. 

“ That may not be. I feel the destroyer busily at work here, 
undermining the citadel,” responded the other, placing his hand 
on that part of his chest where the bullet had entered. “ But I re¬ 
gret not having made the poor sacrifice of my life for so righteous 
a cause. And though I shall not live to see the happiness I would 
be the means of imparting, yet the wish and the duty of doing what 
I proposed to that end remains to be fulfilled, and for this pur¬ 
pose I have requested your presence.” 

The •speaker here paused, as if at a loss how he should open 
the subject which seemed to rest on his mind. But at length he 
resumed : — 

“ Miss Haviland, what you have done and suffered for the cause, 
in which you so nobly took your stand, is known to many. The 
part you have acted in the events of this day is known to still 
more ; but have not those events had a bearing on your happi¬ 
ness beyond what would arise from the bare liberation of your 
person i ” 

“ They have, sir,” replied the maiden, frankly, but with an air 
of surprise at the unexpected question. 

“And have I been correctly informed, by the person who has 
just left us, and who has long been my confidential friend and 
adviser, that, by the Telinquishment of a certain contract, you are 
now left free to bestow your hand on one whose character and 
feelings may be more congenial with your own } ” 

“ Why am I questioned in so unusual a manner, and by one so 
much a stranger” asked the former, in a half-remonstrating, 
half-beseeching tone. 

“ I knew,” rejoined the other, “ that you, as well as the rest of 
those present, might, at first, wonder why and how I should have 
kept myself apprised, as I confess I have long done, of all that 
concerned the individual interests, and even inclinations, as far as 
could be conjectured, of each of you. And I know, also, that my 
ways are not like those of other men. But cannot you trust to 
the motives of a dying man, and let him proceed in his own man¬ 
ner.?” 

“I can—I will. Father "Herriot,” answered Sabrey, touched 
by the appeal. “And I will not affect to misunderstand you. 1 


166 


THE RANGERS, 


have been freed from fetters under which I have suffered — per* 
haps unnecessarily — both persecution and embarrassment of 
feeling. And I am thankful,” she continued, throwing a grateful 
glance to Woodburn — “greatly thankful for that generous for¬ 
bearance by which this was effected without bloodshed. Yes, I 
am free, doubly free ; but whoever takes me,” she added, slightly 
coloring, “ must now receive a penniless bride.” 

“ Perhaps not,” said Herriot, musingly—“ perhaps not. But I 
did not mean to be understood as imposing any conditions to the 
act I was about to perform, after ascertaining your entire deliver¬ 
ance from the power and supposed claims of one whom I deem a 
bad man, as well as a foe to his country. Here, deserving girl,” 
he continued, taking up one of the documents from the table and 
extending it towards her, “ here is a deed of gift, from me to you, 
of all this, which was your father’s estate. Take it; it is freely 
given and worthily bestowed.” 

Surprise at an act as unexpected as it was munificent, kept all 
mute for some seconds ; when Sabrey, whose sensibilities were too 
deeply moved to permit her to speak, threw upon the donor a look 
which her grateful emotions made more eloquent than any lan¬ 
guage she could have summoned for a reply ; and then, turning, 
she silently extended her hand to Woodburn, with the deed still 
’ying across the open palm. 

“ Which ? — the hand or the paper ? ” asked the latter, in a low 
tone, and with a slightly apprehensive air. 

“ Either, or both,” replied the maiden, as a blush stole over her 
conscious cheek. 

“ The hand, then,” exclaimed the delighted lover, grasping the 
coveted prize, and bearing it in triumph to his lips. 

“ It is all right; but no words,” said Herriot, making a motion 
for silence to Woodburn, who was about to address him — “no 
words. I have much to say—let me proceed. Bart,” he con¬ 
tinued, after a thoughtful pause, as he turned to the young man 
who had stood mutely noting the proceedings with a puzzled look 
— “Bart, do you remember the old Rose Homestead, which 
was confiscated, and also purchased by me ? ” 

“ Well, yes,” replied Bart, looking up with an inquiring, doubt¬ 
ful expression — “ yes, for as many as two several reasons, or 
more,” he added, with one glance to Woodburn, and another, 
and more significant one, to Vine, who was standing demurely at 
nis side. 

“ Would you like it for your own asked the former. 

‘ My own! ” exclaimed Bart, casting an incredulous but 


OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


167 


searching look at the other’s countenance, in which, however, ho 
read something that at once changed his demeanor; and, in a soft¬ 
ened and respectful tone, he replied to the question, “Yes, Father 
Herriot, as soon as the smell of toryism got fairly out of it, I 
would like it grandly, that’s a fact.” 

“ It is yours, then, as this deed will show,” said Herriot, hand¬ 
ing to the surprised and hesitating young man the instrument in 
question ; “ it is yours ; but have you no one to share it with 
you ? ” 

“ Well, don’t know exactly, but may be the chap that helped 
me fix up my spy disguises, and gave me so many good hints 
for ferreting out the tories, won’t object much to that, seeing we 
have had considerably the start of the captain and his lady here, 
in the way of finished bargains,” replied Bart, turning, with an 
expression of droll gravity, to the blooming girl at his side, who, 
thereupon, with an arch and blushful smile, placed her hand in 
his, which had been extended to receive it. 

“ Who are you. Father Herriot ? ” exclaimed the now com¬ 
pletely surprised Woodburn ; “ who are you, to take such an 
interest in us, and bestow on us gifts so valuable, with so little 
hope, as you can have, of any adequate return ? ” 

“ Listen, and you shall be answered,” replied Herriot; “ for 
the time has now arrived when you all should know the relation 
in which we stand to each other; and I know not but I have 
already delayed the disclosure of this fact too long. Perhaps I 
should have made it, as I had nearly done, when, at the breaking 
out of the war, you and Bart visited my hermit cabin in the vicin¬ 
ity of the Connecticut. But when I found you about to embark 
in the cause of liberty, for which I stood ready to make any sac¬ 
rifice, I concluded to defer it, lest the discovery, which I had but 
then just made myself, should turn you from a service that I 
thought none were at liberty to withhold. I therefore, after com¬ 
municating to you enough to lead you, in case of my death, to 
all the knowledge I wished you to obtain, encouraged you on 
your way. And it has all, doubtless, been for the best; for who 
knows but your individual exertions were needed to turn the 
scale which has been so long trembling at equipoise.? But the 
events of this day,” continued the patriot, kindling at the thought 
— “ the events of this day, which will be memorable through all 
time, have turned that scale in favor of American freedom. 1 read 
it with a prophetic eye, which is made for me too clear for error 
or misconception. Our avenging armies will henceforth go on 
conquering and to conquer, till the last vestige of British usurpa 
tion is swept from the land.” 


168 


THE RANGERS, 


Here the speaker paused a while to recover from his exhaus* 
tion, and indulge his mental vision, apparently, with the enrap¬ 
turing glimpses he was catching of the future destiny of his coun¬ 
try. But soon arousing himself from his reverie, he resumed,— 

“ Harry Woodburn, you had once a paternal uncle ? ” 

“ I have been told so,” was the reply. 

“ Who, by his folly and wickedness, disgraced himself and 
ruined your father,” proceeded the former. 

“ I had such an uncle,” responded Woodburn, with an expres¬ 
sion of gathering interest and surprise; “ or, rather, I had an 
uncle, who, though not a bad man, was, I have understood, at one 
time, a very indiscreet one ; and, by his indiscretion, lost his own 
property, and deeply involved that of my father. But I do not 
feel to condemn him as much as your words imply you expect I 
should.” 

“ Or as he has always condemned himself,” rejoined Herriot, 
with an air of deep self-abasement. “ But I thank God for giving 
me the means, and the will, for making ample restitution to such 
as remain of my injured brother’s family, or of my own. Harry, 
I am that uncle. 1 am the erring Charles Woodburn.” 

“ I am surprised, deeply surprised,” said the other; “ for,'at¬ 
tributing the interest you have taken in me to other causes, I 
have, till within a few minutes, been totally unprepared for such 
a revelation. And now it seems as if it could not be. You could 
not have much resembled my father, and you bear another name.” 

“ I did not strikingly resemble my more staid brother, in per¬ 
son or character,” responded the former, meekly ; “and my rea¬ 
sons for assuming another name are explained by the circum¬ 
stances under which you first saw me, the accused of a revolting 
crime, of which, as I then declared, I was never guilty. And 
this the wicked men, who combined against me, and hunted me 
out, even in this new settlement, full well knew. But they knew, 
also, that I had somewhere at command the large amount of 
money that had been left me by a wealthy and heirless gentle¬ 
man, whom I had previously rescued from death. Are you now 
satisfied that I am the man I claim to be, and, as such, willing to 
acknowledge me ? ” 

“Fully, now — not only satisfied of the identity, but willing, 
nay, proud to acknowledge the relationship,” said Woodburn, 
with warmth and rising emotion. “Nor is this all, my uncle, 
my friend ! The acts you have just performed will ever-” 

“ Enough, enough! ” interrupted the former ; “ but let me go 
on. I have still another and more humiliating duty to perform. 



OR THE Tory’s daughter. 


169 


Bart,” he continued, turning, with an agitated countenance, to the 
young man, “ as forsaken and guideless as you have been, many a 
parent has had a less deserving offspring. And had you not done 
more for yourself than he, who should have been your protector 
and guide, has done for you, you had been less than nothing 
among men. But listen ; for the story of your origin, which, 
thus far, has been as a sealed book to you, must now be disclosed. 
Your father contracted a private, but legal marriage, with a wo¬ 
man, who, as the world falsely esteemed it, was below him in 
station ; and, in his pride, he refused to acknowledge her, and, 
having squandered the property that should have been applied to 
her support, absconded from the country. In after years, how¬ 
ever, conscience drove him back, but only to find her dying of 
destitution and a broken heart, and to learn from her last words 
that the offspring of their connection, a male infant, had been 
thrown unacknowledged on the charity of the public. Aroused 
by a new sense of duty, he diligently sought for the child — fol¬ 
lowed it from its first lodgment to its next asylum in the city; 
from that to another in the country ; and then, through various 
shifts and wanderings, till the trace was lost far in the interior; 
when he gave up the search, and again left the country. In the 
process of time, he once more returned to New England, in 
altered circumstances, and located himself in this settlement, 
where he soon met with a youth, whose countenance so strikingly 
resembled that of his deceased wife, as to put him instantly on 
inquiry and research, which, in a few weeks, resulted in supply*- 
ing the broken chain of evidence, and in identifying the youth as 
his lost son. Bart, you were, and still are, that son. I was, and 
still am, that father. Do I die, my much injured son, acknowl¬ 
edged and forgiven ? ” 

The young man was too deeply affected by his surprise and 
emotion to utter a word in reply ; but tears, which all the wrongs 
and hardships he had endured had failed to wring from him, now 
stole out on his sunburnt cheeks, testifying, not only his gratifica¬ 
tion at the discovery, but that the slumbering fountain of a natu¬ 
rally generous nature was now effectually stirred within his 
bosom. And the speaker, seeming satisfied with the answer 
which this evidence implied, soon proceeded : — 

“ Little more now remains to be imparted. You remember, 
Harry, that at the visit at my cabin, to which I have already al¬ 
luded, 1 showed you two small casks, labelled ‘ Printer's Tyye' 
concealed under a stone in the cellar } ” 

“I do; and the impression they caused of the absurdity of 
VOL. II. 15 


170 


THE RANGERS, 


bringing that kind of property into our new settlement,” replied 
the other. 

“ They were so marked for greater security,” resumed the 
former ; “ for they contained silver coin, and, at that time, nearly 
all the property i possessed. Of these, one has been recently 
appropriated to the purchase of confiscated estates, whenever a 
lack of money in others was likely to prevent a sale at a fair 
value. The other remains'in the same spot. And this, and the 
rest of my property, except what I have just conveyed, and ex¬ 
cept, also, bequests of small farms to Dunning and Piper, for 
their friendship to you, and faithfulness to the cause, you will find, 
by my will here on the table, to be equally divided between you, 
my son and nephew. And now,” he added, in a faltering 
tone, and in accents of touching tenderness, now, my children, 
having said all I wished to communicate, I will commend you 
to' our common Parent above. Kneel and receive my bless- 

Hand in hand, and side by side, with the fair sharers of their 
gushing sympathies, the young men now reverently knelt around 
the dying patriot, and bowed their faces beneath his outspread 
hands to receive the proffered blessing, which was then pro¬ 
nounced with much fervor, but with the last words he was des¬ 
tined ever to utter; for after waiting a while after he had ceased 
to speak, the tearfal group gently removed his hands from their 
heads, and arose t) be greeted by a face pale in death. ^ 


OK THE Tory’s daughter. 


171 


CONCLUSION. 

On a summer afternoon, nearly a year after the occurrence of 
the events last described, there was an unusual gathering in the 
village of Bennington. As early as one o’clock, multitudes of’ 
people were seen pouring in by every road leading into the place 
from the surrounding country, and filling up the streets with a 
promiscuous crowd of all ages, sexes, and conditions. And as 
the hour of two approached, the commotion increased to a degree 
which plainly showed that some crisis was at hand ; and soon the 
dense throng, gathered in the vicinity of the Green Mountain 
Tavern, then the principal place of public resort, broke away 
into groups and companies, and began to flock towards a newly- 
erected gallows, standing, at no great distance, on the neighbor¬ 
ing common. Here arranging themselves, as they came up, in 
a circle round the ill-omened structure, they assumed the attitude 
of spectators awaiting the advent of some promised spectacle. 

Presently a clamor rose from the outer part of the crowd, as, 
with the exclamations, “ There comes the new Overseer of the 
Tories ! ” * “ There comes Dunning and his gang of beauties ! ” 

They pointed to a column of some dozens of variously-clad, de¬ 
jected-looking men, headed by a well-armed officer in the con¬ 
tinental uniform, just coming round a corner into view, and 
advancing towards the spot. 

“ Der open there to the right and left! ” cried the commander 
of this unique company, as he marched them up to the crowd. 
“ Make way for Mother Britain’s ditter darlings ! The coming sight 
is as much for their der benefit as your ditter fun. There, halt!” 
he continued, bringing the submissive creatures into their allotted 
place. “ Now, the first one of you that attempts to sneak away 
from the sight, takes a der pistol bullet. So face the music with¬ 
out flinching. It will ditter do you good.” 

Scarcely had this transpired before the crowd, whose attention, 


* The Overseer of the Tories, an officer peculiar to the times, and per¬ 
haps to the locality, was one to whom was intrusted the general sur¬ 
veillance and control of that class of persons, to prevent them from 
communicating with the British, and see that they did not pass over the 
limits of the farms, or town lines, within which, under various penalties, 
they were doomed to remain, unless called out by such officer for some 
public service, such as clearing out the highways, &c., to which they were 
held subject. 



172 


THE RANGERS, 


for the moment, was too much engrossed to notice the approach 
of the principal procession, now close at hand, was again thrown 
into commotion by the sound of a muffled drum, followed by the 
loud cry of, “ Clear the way for the prisoner and his escort /” in 
a voice whose well-known tones never fell unheeded on the ears 
of a Green Mountain assemblage. With magic quickness, a clear 
space opened through the ranks of the receding throng, in the 
direction of this fresh summons, when the first object that met the 
eye was the towering form of Ethan Allen, mounted on a large 
black horse ; he having recently returned from his captivity, and 
been appointed, in the quaint language of his commission, “ to con~ 
duct, in behalf of the state, the trial and execution of that inimical 
person, David Redding.'^'' * Next to Allen came the prisoner, 
riding in an ox-cart, and sitting, between two armed men, who 
were acting as his special guards. Then followed a company of 
soldiers, under the command of another of our old acquaintances, 
Bill Piper, who had been promoted to a captaincy in a volunteer 
service then recently projected ; while the president, secretary, 
and members of the Council of Safety, succeeded by a band of 
private citizens, brought up the rear of the procession. On reach¬ 
ing its destination, the team was brought to a stand immediately 
beneath the gallows, which was a naked cross-tree, set into the 
ground like a sign-post, and wholly unprovided with platform, or 
other of the usual adjuncts of such structures. The prisoner was 
then ordered to stand up in the cart, when the noose at the end 
of the rope, dangling from the arm above, was securely adjusted 
round his neck, and every thing made ready for the awful mo¬ 
ment. 

Ira Allen, having mounted some object at hand, then addressed 
the people in an eloquent exhortation on the duty and policy of a 
faithful and unwavering adherence -to the cause of the country, 
which he enforced by giving a rapid sketch of the character and 
career of the wretched traitor before them, as contrasted with those 
who had been true to that cause, and especially those who had 
captured him. 

“ Of the four brave men,” he said, in conclusion, “who, at such 
odds and risk, pursued and took the prisoner and his party, on that 
glorious occasion, two are present, and in position? which amply 
testify the high estimation that has been placed on their gallant 


* David Redding, the only person ever executed in Vermont for political 
offences, was, after changing two or three times from the American to the 
British cause, and two trials, hanged July 11, 1777, at 2 o’clock, P. M. 



OR THE TORY’S DAUGHTER. 


173 


conduct. The others, the two Woodburns, who remained in the 
army, are — as I learn from letters I have recently seen from them 
to their scarcely less heroic young wives, left to conduct the affairs 
of their respective homes — now in New Jersey, acting under 
the eye of their beloved Washington, whose confidence in them, 
in their different spheres of action — one as the honored colonel 
of a regiment, and the other as the most trusty and adroit manager 
in the secret service — they consider their sufficient reward, and 
one that was only wanting to crown that which, on the eve of 
our memorable battle here, they received in their wives, and the 
wealth obtained through the romantic disclosures of their dying 
relative, the lamented Father Herriot. And of the party taken 
alive by those gallant men, the tory leader, Peters, was exchanged 
for several of our imprisoned officers, and at a bargain which 
secured us advantages not to be obtained by stretching his worth¬ 
less neck; and he has retired into Canada, to sink into insignifi¬ 
cance, despised and hated by those whom his misrepresentations 
respecting the alleged easy conquest of our state so completely 
deceived. Fitch, after having ransomed himself by the payment 
of all he could raise, offered through his fear of a fate to which, 
after all, he probably would not have been condemned, sneaked 
back to his old haunts in Guilford, where he perished miserably 
by the hand of one whom former wrongs, committed in acts of 
official cruelty and extortion, had made desperate. And the 
other, and last of the infamous trio, now stands before us, to 
make atonement for his crimes by an ignominious death on the 
gallows.” 

When the speaker had concluded, the prisoner, after glancing 
around him, with that fitful, furtive, and restless expression, which 
at all times so strongly marked his countenance, turned to Ethan 
Allen, and meekly begged permission to address tbe multitude. 

“Why — yes,” hesitatingly replied the rough old hero, who 
had been sitting upon his horse, moodily looking at his watch ly¬ 
ing in his broad palm, and occasionally exhibiting signs of impa¬ 
tience at the length of His more wordy young brother’s remarks — 
“yes, it may be right enough, that you should have your say, 
unless you want to preach some more of your damnable tory 
doctrines togthe people. But be short, sir. Your hour is nearly 
up; and I do not intend that the earth shall be polluted by your 
living presence one moment beyond the time.” 

Immediately availing himself of this ungracious permission, the 
prisoner turned, shrinkingly, towards the crowd, and said, — 

“All you who hear me, I hope, will take warning by my miser- 

15 * 


174 


THE RANGERS, OR THE TORy’s DAUGHTER. 


able end —an end to which I have been brought, in my opinion, 
only hy my inconstancy. In the first place, I adhered to my oath 
of allegiance, and supported the king; but, finding myself in dan¬ 
ger, I enrolled myself under the new state, and went for the ‘ 
authority of Congress. Conscience, however, quickly carried me 
back to the royal cause, which I again supported a while; and 
then, being over-persuaded by my neighbors, I came out once 
more openly for the state, and went for it till the approach of 
Burgoyne emboldened me to risk another change, and go for my 
old master. But, being soon taken in arms, I must now untimely 
perish. It is, therefore, my advice to you all — never fluctuate as 
I have done ; but you who are for the States, stick by the States; 

and you who are for the king, stick by the king, and prove-” 

“And so,” fiercely interrupted old Ethan — “ so you would 
have an interminable war, would you ? Take your treason along 
with you to Tophet, ye doubly-damned miscreant I I will have 
no more of it here. Teamster, drive on the cart! ” 

The teamster did so; and the next moment the traitor Red¬ 
ding was launched into eternity. 


THE END. 




rr fn / 












































